Bright Young Things of Hogwarts
by dorahatesexploring
Summary: They're clever, quick, and have the hopes of the Wizarding Community behind them. So how do they fill their time? With alcohol and sex, of course. Cue wild adventures, stupid mistakes, and heated feuds. Oh, and a bit of schoolwork, too. Contains strong elements of sex, substance abuse, and minor violence.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Slytherin House was a place known by its stories. By the myths and rumours that had been told of it for generations. It was a known as a place of dark places that bred dark people who did dark things, the house with a history as murky as the Black Lake, as deep and winding as the Forbidden Forest. The truth, of course, was much different.

Most of all, Slytherin House was a place of freedom. One might be surprised by that, but after five years there that's the only way Albus Potter would have described it. It was a place where you could escape the labels that everyone else would try and put on you, where you chose exactly who and what you wanted to be, even if that was a loner or a recluse.

It was a house of rich kids, of course, everyone knew that. Students came from the most wealthy and powerful families in the Wizarding World, and many had a long history attached to their surnames. Avery. Flint. Malfoy. They were names that had been spoken on countless tongues through history, in the major events and disasters and battles. But in Slytherin, one's name didn't mean anything. Perhaps because everyone had to deal with the history of their own name, no one had it used against them. At least, not by their housemates. It was surprising, but even the son of Harry Potter was grateful for this trait.

Albus had never been an outgoing child. That was the place of his siblings, to be loud and funny and stupid, always the centre of attention. Albus personally hated being stared at, and much preferred to be quietly observing from the sidelines, or even better out of the crowd entirely. His cousin Rose had always been known as "the clever cousin", and she did have the annoying character trait of being able to absorb knowledge with apparently zero effort, but it was Albus who'd inherited his Aunt Hermione's love of reading. He vied with Rose for places at the top of the class simply because he loved to read.

'You nerd.'

Albus looked up from his book, which he had open beside his dinner plate, to see Scorpius Malfoy sitting down opposite him. With a small smile, he begrudgingly shut the book and made to put it back in his bag, but his friend snatched it up before he could, flipping it around to read the title.

' _Conjuring and Controlling Light: The Finer Filaments in Charmwork_. Merlin, that sounds dull,' he said, handing it back.

'It's not,' said Albus firmly, putting the book away in his schoolbag. 'Anyway, complicated spells to do with light form one of the main aspects of our Charms NEWT.'

'And therefore we'll learn about it anyway, so what's the point in spending your time reading up on it? You'll just have to hear the same stuff all over again from Professor Chang,' said Scorpius, rolling his eyes. 'Pointless.'

'You're such a jock.'

'You're such a nerd.'

'You've already used that one.'

The two of them grinned at each other. Scorpius had grown more over the summer, and his face and body had filled out slightly too; Albus envied him for losing the gangly, lanky build that he still had. Scorpius was a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and so had much more muscle than Albus, who was still skinny. His hair was longer, too; he combed it sleekly back but for a few strands that fell over his forehead, and the ends reached the nape of his neck. Albus wondered if he'd grow it long enough for a ponytail - it was the growing trend in Slytherin. His own hair was a tangled mess that would probably never consign to be forced into anything so constricting as a hairband.

'So I'm guessing the new Head Boy and Girl kept you busy on the train?' said Albus. It was the start of the school year, and usually the two of them sat together on the Hogwarts Express, but this year Scorpius hadn't come back from the Prefect meeting. Scorpius sighed, running a hand through his hair.

'No, not the Head Boy or Girl. Or at least, not them directly,' he said.

'Oh?' Albus raised an eyebrow. 'So what kept you? Was it Jessica White again?'

Jessica White was a very pretty Ravenclaw girl who Scorpius had dated briefly at the end of last year.

'It was your cousin,' said Scorpius.

Albus laughed. 'By cousin, you don't mean Rose do you? You two can barely stand to speak five words at a time to each other, let alone spend an entire train journey from London to Scotland together. And I'm not including your arguments in that, nor your duels. So what happened?'

'Carter Jenson and Kitty Cartwright, as new Head Boy and Girl, have decided that Prefects from different houses should be paired up together for the year. The duties will be done in the pairs, to make it more efficient and to "promote inter-house contact".'

'And let me guess - you got Rose?' said Albus. Scorpius nodded, and Albus burst out laughing again.

'I'm surprised you even made it off the train in a fully sentient form, I'd've thought she would have turned you into a wreck by now.'

Scorpius glared at him. 'Have a little less respect for me, please? But there was arguing. A lot of arguing. The two of us not only have to patrol the lower floors on Tuesday and Thursday nights, but also be "Academic Helpers" for the Third Years. Together. Honestly, it's a nightmare.'

' _You're_ an Academic Helper?' said Albus incredulously. Scorpius had never put an ounce more effort into his schoolwork than he absolutely had to in order to get good enough grades. Scorpius shrugged.

'I'll probably just stick to doing their sports lessons and maybe some Potions tutoring, and let your cousin get the rest.'

'Oh she'll love you for that,' said Albus.

'She'd better - I'll be taking all those sessions out in the wind and rain watching a bunch of spotty, bratty thirteen-year-olds run around the Quidditch pitch off her hands.'

They had to stop talking after that, as the doors to the Great Hall had just opened again, and the Deputy Head, Professor Longbottom, was leading a long crocodile of First Years down the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. They stopped at the end opposite the old Sorting Hat; filthy, patched, and oddly charred around the brim. After a short pause in which the remaining whispers in the Great Hall died down to silence, a rip like a mouth opened near the brim, and the Sorting Hat began to sing:

'For a thousand years or more I've sat,

Consigned to sort this student from that…'

Albus leant down, reached into his schoolbag, and pulled out his book again. He had attended five Sortings already, including his own, and he was pretty sure he knew the score. The hat sung some stupid song about the school's history and the houses, and a bunch of midgets got sorted out according to their personality. He turned to chapter six - " _Luminescence - Control & Subtlety"_.

After the feast Scorpius had to help chaperone the new First Years down to the dungeons, although many of the new Slytherins did not look as if they needed an ounce of help. Albus figured that most came from the same old families and probably already knew all about Hogwarts and Slytherin House. He walked past the gaggle of eleven-year-olds and headed down to the dungeons alone.

The layout of Slytherin House was a closely kept secret amongst the students. The other houses had a vague idea that the Common Room was larger than theirs, with a certain grandeur to the decor, but in reality Slytherin House went far beyond a grand Common Room. It spread out through the dungeons like a great, sprawling mansion, with conservatories, study rooms, miniature libraries and even a spa room with a swimming pool and hot tub. Slytherin students were thought of as reclusive; it was really that there was little outside of the house that could entertain them.

The dormitories were spread out through the house, in little clusters of five or six that were grouped by year. Albus' dorm was in a cluster just above their library; one went through a door into a maze of nooks and little rooms of bookcases, connected by low arches, or up a narrow spiral staircase to a larger landing with five doors and for some unknown reason a stone statue of a rearing dragon in the centre.

He paused at the door, his eyes glancing over the five plaques nailed to the dark wood: S. Langwith, J. E. Fitzroy, L. Zabini, S. Malfoy, and right at the bottom, A. Potter. His hand rested on the heavy silver doorknob.

'Something got you stuck, Potter?'

He turned around as if shocked. A girl had appeared on the landing behind him. She was tall and slender, with thick chestnut curls and a spray of freckles across her nose. This was Adelaide Gray. Albus felt himself go red, and hated himself for it. He'd always struggled when faced with Adelaide. She was beautiful and popular, and whenever he spoke to her his social awkwardness always seemed to increase tenfold.

'Oh - hi, Adelaide, good summer? I was just … just thinking,' he said hurriedly, wincing inwardly as he did. She smiled.

'Well, a Knut for them.'

He watched as she turned and entered her own dormitory, the door snapping shut behind her. Through the years Adelaide had alternately been the subject of admiration, gossip, and scandal, as was to be expected from a popular Slytherin wild child. But before any of that, before Adelaide had even finished her first feast at Hogwarts, whispers had spread about her due to one thing: Adelaide Gray was the first Slytherin in recorded history to be born to Muggles.

After a moment's pause, Albus quickly turned and entered his own dormitory.

Scorpius still seemed to be preoccupied with the First Years, but the other three boys were spread out across the room. The dormitory was large, although with five teenage boys inside it often didn't feel that way. There were five four-poster beds hung with green velvet embroidered in silver, each with its own wardrobe, shelves, and bedside table, and at the end of the room was a fireplace with an armchair and small sofa. They had their own bathroom, a rather chilly room with a copper bathtub and taps in the shape of rearing snakes.

Fitzroy was stood in the middle of the room, evidently in the middle of some anecdote about his summer escapades. 'And then, we just had to jump in the sea!' he said, and he and Langwith burst out laughing. Turning on a heel, Fitzroy grinned at Albus. 'Potter! How was the summer?'

'Adequate.'

'Mine was excellent.'

Albus didn't manage to return the smile. Fitzroy was one of those individuals who for some unknown reason had been entirely blessed in just about every way. He was a singularly beautiful boy, fit and slender, with a head of golden-brown curls that had half the girls in the school in love with him, and a smile that caught the other half. It was a smile for poetry; quick to appear, his almost plump, pink lips would part, revealing perfectly even white teeth and creating dimples in his lightly tanned cheeks. His family was rich enough to rival any other in Slytherin, and to top it all off, he was the Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Yet as much as Albus wanted to hate him, he struggled to.

'Potter, there's a bash being thrown tonight, the usual one to celebrate the start of the year. You know - the children are packed off, the alcohol is brought out, things go on from there. Speaking of alcohol, you have brought provisions, haven't you?' called Langwith from the armchair, where he was sprawled languidly, his legs stretched out towards the fire.

Langwith was not classically handsome like Fitzroy, nor was he as instantly likeable. Taller, darker, and more taciturn, he had a sardonic air that seemed to find amusement in everything about him. Like many Slytherins he kept his hair long, and it fell in graceful jet locks about his pale, narrow-featured face. His slanted blue eyes seemed to look out mockingly at the world from beneath his arched brows. He sat resting his chin in his hand, his long fingers pressing lightly against his hollow cheeks, a smile playing about his thin lips.

'I haven't had a good night for weeks,' said Zabini, appearing from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. 'I try to keep it together when I'm living at home.'

'Oh, of course you do,' said Fitzroy, grinning. 'Except for the Summer Solstice Ball.'

'And the Greengrass' party in July,' said Langwith.

'And that birthday party your sister had,' said Fitzroy.

'And my mother's summer party in July,' said Scorpius, who'd just walked in behind Albus. 'Hullo, everyone.'

Zabini shrugged, the heavy muscles of his shoulders and torso rippling, and then wandered back into the bathroom. Albus found him in there shaving a few minutes later; it was taking a long time, as Zabini kept stopping to check himself out every few strokes. Zabini wasn't in the Quidditch team - he didn't have time for such commitments - but instead had an intense exercise regime every morning, including swimming fifty laps of the Slytherin pool and going for a run around the Black Lake. He was striking, too, with his ebony skin and grey-green eyes. With his strong jaw and high cheekbones, he looked like a young god, and his crooked smile could win over any girl that caught his eye.

Albus washed his face and then went over to his bed. His trunk had been placed at the end of it; it looked identical to all the other school trunks. Slightly battered, with "A. S. Potter" stamped on the side in silver. He unlocked it and quickly unpacked the mundane school items - robes and uniform into the wardrobe, books onto the shelves. He'd never been the sort to hoard objects, except books, and the trunk was soon empty. Or so it seemed to the untrained eye.

Running his wand lightly along the inward seam, he soon felt something _click_ , and the bottom of the case seemed to melt away, revealing the hidden compartment. Rows of brightly coloured bottles gleamed in the lamplight, tightly packed amongst small, plain brown boxes, each with a neatly lettered label on the lid: powdered unicorn horn, Billywig sting, Euphoria, Marijuana.

'You've got more this year,' said Fitzroy, appearing over Albus' shoulder. 'Get a good deal on it all?'

'Of course,' said Albus, pulling out a few bottles of alcohol and some packets from inside the drug boxes. He'd started smuggling illicit items into school in his Second Year, once he'd grown sick of having so much less money compared to his classmates. During the Christmas holidays, he made up some excuse to go off by himself, and then snuck into Knockturn Alley. Down there it took hardly five minutes to find a willing shopkeeper, and he walked back out again with a rucksack stuffed with alcohol. As it turned out, his rich peers were happy to pay five times the cost price for the bottles, and he soon had a steady trade running.

None of it was illegal - the Ministry had never made any of the substances illegal, partly because most were concentrated versions of potions ingredients, and they didn't cause any harmful side effects beyond a rather bad comedown. Albus swapped his old school trunk for one with an extra hidden compartment, and quickly found he could keep up with the spending habits of his classmates.

Slytherin parties were thrown at every opportunity, and had gained a reputation in the school for debauchery and vice. It was the dearest wish of many students in the other houses to sneak into one of these parties, but none had ever achieved it. In the final party last year, an explosion had been set off in the Potions cupboard, a hippogriff and three Nifflers were secreted into the Hufflepuff Common Room, and several students had woken up in the Great Hall, two entirely naked. That did set a record in terms of destruction.

That night, the party was in full swing by the time Albus arrived with the group of other Sixth Years. It was clear that many Slytherins were ready to let off steam after a summer cloistered with overprotective parents, and Albus found so many people trying to buy things off him that he could hardly pause to drink himself for the first hour. He'd charmed one of the pockets of his schoolbag so that it was Undetectably Extended, feather-light, and only he could open it, but after a while he'd spent so much he stuffed it behind a chair and just pulled out a bottle for himself.

He and Scorpius wandered the Common Room for a while, sharing a bottle of Firewhisky and observing the dissolute chaos. Several people already seemed to have passed out in chairs or on the floor, and their friends were busy drawing on them, or magically adding features such as moustaches and horns. The centre of the Common Room had been turned into a dance floor, and was packed with people gyrating to the thumping music coming from the stereo in the corner.

'Why don't we go join the dancing?' suggested Scorpius, indicating to a group of particularly pretty girls. 'Looks like fun.'

'No way,' said Albus, and Scorpius rolled his eyes.

'You can be so boring, you know right? I know you're a socially awkward loner, but you need to start enjoying life a little more. Take some of the drugs you're selling.'

Albus shrugged. 'What? I like being a loner, and I like concentrating on school.'

'No one likes concentrating on school,' said Scorpius dismissively.

'Maybe you don't.'

'But I could, if I wanted to. I'm worried that you're going to lose the ability to socialise,' said Scorpius, as Albus took a large swig of Firewhisky.

'I am not!'

'Want to bet?'

Albus stared at his best friend. 'Alright. I bet I can manage to be more sociable, if you concentrate more on schoolwork. You give me tasks, and vice-versa.'

'Deal. And your first task is: go speak to Adelaide Gray,' said Scorpius, smirking. Albus glared at him. Adelaide was across the room, dancing on one of the desks with a couple of her girlfriends, a cup in her hand. Her hair had fallen over her face as she swayed to the music, her eyes half-closed, spare hand on her hip.

'How am I meant to go speak to her when she's dancing?' retorted Albus.

'Go dance with her, then. Come on, it's not hard! I'll come too, her friend Kitty has grown up well over the summer…'

At that moment, however, Adelaide's foot slipped off the desk and she tumbled off into the dancing crowd, who caught her clumsily. Scorpius shoved Albus forward, and he found himself hurrying over to her. She was sat on the floor on the edge of the dancers, looking up at the desk in a confused way. She still held her cup, even though her drink had already spilled onto the floor and her jeans.

'Adelaide?'

She looked around at him, smiling vaguely and attempting to brush her hair out her face. 'Albus … hey … what're you doing here?'

'Just … just checking you're alright,' he said. She giggled, and patted him clumsily on the cheek.

'Thanks … Albus…'

'Adie! Who got you so wasted?'

Albus looked up and saw a tall, muscular boy looming over them. It was Zachary Bowles, the new Captain of the Quidditch Team, and Adelaide's on-and-off boyfriend. Clearly, he was currently on again. Kneeling down on the other side of Adelaide, he swept his arms under her body and picked her up easily, her head lolling against his chest. With an easy grin at Albus, and a quick 'thanks', he hurried off across the Common Room with her, disappearing through a doorway.

Standing up, Albus wandered back towards where Scorpius was still standing, feeling undeniably low about what had just happened. Scorpius grimaced, and punched him on the shoulder. 'Don't look so down, mate. I've heard Bowles has a tiny pecker. Come on, a group of girls just told me they're going to the hot tub, let's join them.'

'Nah, thanks,' said Albus, shaking his head. 'I'm going go smoke some Billywig sting.'

Scorpius laughed. 'Atta boy. Find Fitzroy, if you can, he does love that stuff.'

He watched Albus wander off towards his schoolbag, and then turned away and headed out of the Common Room and down the steps to the spa room. He heard voices before he'd even entered, and when he walked through the archway he found the expansive hot tub already almost full. They hailed him as he went over, and he quickly stripped down to his underwear and jumped in.

'Look out, there's not much space,' giggled one of the girls, as he slid in between them. It was tightly packed - his legs brushed half a dozen others, most of them girls. Half-empty bottles and packets littered the side of the hot tub, and a boy leant across to hand him a spliff. Taking a deep puff, he leant back and closed his eyes, breathing out a long stream of smoke.

'Don't take it all,' laughed the girl next to him, and he opened his eyes, holding out the spliff. She took a puff of it from between his fingers, her lips brushing over his knuckles. He recognised her as Casey Winchester, one of the Fifth Year girls. She was quite pretty, with shoulder-length blond hair and large, doe-like eyes that seemed to stare innocently at him even as her hands brushed his thigh and torso. They shared the rest of the spliff, and by the end of it she was leaning against his chest, his arm around her.

The others were having some banal conversation, and two of the girls were already kissing one of the boys. One girl was near passing out, so her friends lifted her out and carried her to bed. That left the kissing trio, and Casey and Scorpius. He found a lock of her hair around his forefinger, and then cupped the back of her head and leant down to kiss her.

Her lips were soft and supplicant against his, her body leaning in to press against his as he drew her over him to straddle his lap. He was drunk, and high, and it only made the pleasure of her body wrapping around his the greater. She was kissing him more now, her lips entwining passionately against his, her tongue dipping into his mouth. He slipped his hands into her underwear, already loose in the hot water, and squeezed her small breasts, and then slid a hand down her small body to between her thighs, rubbing through the thin material. She moaned, her mouth slipping to kiss his neck as he continued to rub and felt himself harden beneath her.

'Casey! Casey, let's go back, I'm bored,' said one of the girls.

'Why don't you stay with me?' murmured Scorpius, holding onto Casey's thigh as she began to pull away. She pouted at him, her lips looking bruised and plump.

'Sorry, Malfoy,' she said, 'girlfriends always come first.'

The three girls climbed out of the tub, one of them leading the other, slightly bemused boy with her. Scorpius was left alone in the hot water with an uncomfortable semi.

Back at the dormitory he discovered Fitzroy, Langwith and Albus all sprawled by the fire in varying states of intoxication. Fitzroy looked the worst - his pretty face was all pink, his eyes rather glazed and bloodshot. An old textbook on the floor bore the unmistakeable bright blue residue of Billywig sting powder, and when Scorpius went over he saw it around their nostrils as well. Langwith looked around, raising his eyebrows slightly as his eyes glanced over Scorpius' drying hair and wet shirt.

'You look like you had fun,' he said, reaching out to grab the back of the sofa as he began to levitate a few inches above it. 'Would you look at that … the powder's kicked in.'

Concentrated Billywig powder had the effect, when snorted, of giving one a feeling of relaxation and weightlessness, with the added side effect of literal weightlessness. Albus was hovering a few inches above the hearthrug, his head lolling and his limbs trailing as if held by strings. He barely stirred as Scorpius dropped to the floor beside him, giving him a quick slap on the cheeks to check he was at least still alive.

'Muhh,' mumbled Albus, drifting worrying close to the fireplace, where embers were still burning. Scorpius sighed, and put his arms under Albus' body, carrying him over to his bed. He was glad that the Billywig powder had made Albus lighter, as the room kept tipping on an axis and his feet had gone oddly numb. Albus groaned and snuggled into the pillows, hugging one against him. With a smile, Scorpius made sure he was on his side and pulled the blankets over him.

'Got any left?' he asked, wandering back towards the others. Fitzroy was slumped in the armchair, a line of drool now beginning to dribble down his chin and into the collar of his expensive shirt. Langwith was the only one who seemed to still be conscious - he opened one eye slightly and indicated to the hearthrug, where a few little bags of electric blue powder were littered.

'Here's to Sixth Year,' he muttered, before snorting the baggy.

Lessons began at nine the next morning, to the great consternation of many students. To Albus, the chiming of the school bells at seven in the morning felt like someone had just smacked him over the head with a frying pan. The entire dormitory groaned in unison, except for Zabini, who was somehow already up and doing his morning exercises. Albus wondered if he'd ever felt such a bad comedown from Billywig stings - as the powder gave you a sensation of weightlessness, the next morning one's body felt ten times more heavy and leaden. He thought he wouldn't even be able to open his eyes or sit up, let alone walk up to the Great Hall.

It took them so long to drag themselves up out of the dungeons, that breakfast was almost over when Albus and Scorpius reached the Great Hall. Albus reluctantly put a few sad old pieces of toast and some scrambled eggs - entirely cold - onto his plate, but found he didn't have the stomach for them. He could barely manage to drink a cup of black tea. The lights in the hall seemed far too bright, and his brain spun in his skull if he moved too quickly.

Across the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor Table, he spotted his cousin Rose, sat in the middle of her large group of friends. She looked annoyingly bright and cheerful for so early in the morning, and she didn't notice his disgruntled looks.

In fact, Rose was quite tired. She and her friends hadn't partied the night before like the Slytherins; instead they'd spent so long catching up from the long summer break that they'd sat up until almost as late as Albus and his friends. But the excitement of being back at school meant she hardly noticed it.

The best part was being reunited with Daniel Goodwin, her boyfriend. He'd been in America all summer, and she'd missed him like a hole in her cauldron. They'd been dating for a year, and she still wasn't sure how she'd managed to get such a perfect boyfriend. He was a Seventh Year, popular and handsome, and although she insisted she didn't care about anything that shallow, it helped that he was also the star Keeper on the Quidditch Team. She was one of the Chasers, and they'd become close during all the long practices, finally kissing at the victory party over Slytherin the year before.

He was regaling the group about one of his adventures in the States, where he'd been rounding up rogue magical creatures with his uncle, his arm around Rose's shoulders. He was much taller than her, and well-built like Keepers should be, the team jersey that he wore under his robes stretched tight across his chest.

The story was interrupted near the climax, just when the Niffler was about to escape into a crowd of wealthy Muggles, as the Head of House and Deputy Headmaster, Professor Longbottom, appeared with a stack of timetables for them. Rose had known him all her life, and he gave her a particularly indulgent smile as he handed over her timetable.

'We were all very pleased with your results, Miss Weasley. Top of the year! You can do all the courses you asked for, of course. Here's your timetable.'

She took the timetable and scanned over it quickly, although she knew what she was doing of course. Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, and Charms, all the qualifications required to become a Healer. She'd chosen to do Ancient Runes, too, just because she rather enjoyed it and thought it might come in handy.

'You're inhuman, you know right,' said Daniel, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he looked over her timetable as well. 'How're you going to do all of that? I'll barely see you for all the studying you'll do!'

'We'd better make the Quidditch practices count, then,' she said, kissing him softly on the lips.

Meanwhile, Scorpius and Albus were having a much longer talk with Professor Flint, their own Head of House. Neither of them had any issues with their exams, of course, but Flint was putting up a bit more of a protest over their choices, especially Albus.

'I see you're wanting to drop Herbology, Potter,' he said, frowning at the timetable. Albus had his hand out to take the parchment, but Flint didn't hand it over. 'And take Magical Languages and Ancient Runes instead.' He frowned over the top of it at Albus, who was becoming increasingly impatient. 'I'd have thought you'd want to take Herbology, Potter. It's a requirement for the Auror track.'

'I know, sir,' said Albus, forcing himself to keep his tone polite. 'But I don't want to follow that track.'

'I see,' said Flint. ' _Do_ you have any idea what path you want to follow, Potter?'

Albus shrugged, pushing his hardly touched breakfast about his plate. 'A few, sir.'

Flint sighed, and finally handed over the timetable. 'Alright, Potter, I trust you to know what you're doing. And now for you, Mr Malfoy.'

'Sir?'

'Hmm… I have reservations about your timetable too, Malfoy. You told me last year that you were considering becoming an Auror. I see Potter has turned against it himself, but I hope you haven't, too. You're not taking Herbology or Transfiguration on this timetable.'

'No, sir. I … I'm not sure, anymore, if I can…'

'Nonsense!' said Flint, tapping his wand on the parchment so the ink slid and shifted in the grid. 'If you put your mind to it, you should have no problem with achieving a place on Auror training. You're taking Herbology and Transfiguration.'

'But sir!' protested Scorpius, 'I wanted to take Magical Languages, as an elective.'

'And? You can take that, too. If that's all, boys, I'll be on my way,' he said. He gave them both a glance over and said, slightly sardonically, 'and eat more breakfast, it will help the hangover.'

He handed Scorpius his amended timetable and strode off to the next group of students. Scorpius slumped in his seat, staring at his timetable in disbelief. 'Six subjects! Six! I was meant to have _fun_ this year.'

'I'm doing six,' said Albus, attempting to have a bite of toast.

'And you don't have fun!'

'You did bet that you could take school more seriously, if I tried to be more sociable. Well, this can be your first effort. Come on, we should get to Charms, the bell will ring soon,' said Albus. 'Cheer up - you can see Professor Chang soon. That'll cheer you up.'

Professor Chang was the Charms teacher. She was a very attractive woman and many of the students, including Scorpius, harboured a crush on her, of varying degrees. Scorpius aimed a kick at Albus, who just smirked and pushed on through the crowds of students that were moving annoyingly slowly out the Great Hall and up the Marble Staircase. The Charms classroom was on the Second Floor, and most of the class was already waiting outside when they arrived. Both of them took a look at who'd made it through to Charms at NEWT level.

There was Rose, of course, with a few of her friends. Albus was quietly surprised that her airhead boyfriend had managed to get any OWL grades at all, but there he was, stood in that same superior way with his arm around her. There was a large group of Ravenclaws, as to be expected, with a handful of Hufflepuffs. And lounging at the back were some Slytherins, including the rest of their dormitory, some of the girls, and Adelaide Gray.

She was stood with a girlfriend, the two of them chatting lightly about something, and as Albus followed Scorpius towards them she laughed over some comment the other girl had made, tossing her head back as she did so that her long chestnut curls caught the light shining through the window behind her. She looked around when the others hailed them, and Albus felt something jump in his chest as her grey eyes glanced over them. They paused, inscrutable, on him, and then a second later she'd turned back to her friend, their conversation flowing on.

They weren't waiting for long outside the classroom; Albus and Scorpius had barely joined the group before everyone fell suddenly silent, and they looked around to see the classroom door open, and Professor Chang step out.

'She is not made like most women,' sighed Fitzroy under his breath from behind Albus. There was a murmur of agreement.

'You know she's old enough to be your mother,' hissed one of the Slytherin girls, Zelda St John.

'Doesn't look it,' retorted Zabini, and it was true. Chang had to be in her forties, but she looked like a woman hardly over thirty, and a very attractive one at that. She swept her sheet of hair back and smiled at them all, greeting each of them in turn as they filed into the classroom. As Albus passed her, she put a hand on his chest and stopped him.

'Glad to see you've decided to take Charms NEWT, in the end,' she said, smiling. 'I would've missed having you in my classes.'

'I thought you were always going to carry on with Charms,' whispered Scorpius as they headed on into the classroom and found a pair of desks. 'Why was she so interested in you?'

Albus shrugged, as confused as Scorpius was. Charms was the subject he'd always struggled the most with, but he'd still achieved an "E" in his OWLs. He decided to not dwell too long on it, as Professor Chang swept to the front of the classroom and began the lesson.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A few days later, Albus and Scorpius were outside enjoying one of the final summery evenings of the year, down by the Black Lake. They'd chosen a spot where they were hidden from the rest of the school that was ranged across the lawns, beneath a large willow tree, and were passing a spliff between them as they watched the sunset over the water.

'This isn't too bad,' said Scorpus, breathing out a long stream of smoke. 'It was definitely a good idea to do this, and not that composition that Professor Glotten set.'

'Yeah,' said Albus, his eyes half-closed as he watched the sun hang lower and lower in the sky. 'Do you think we're getting higher or the sun's getting lower?

'What?'

He waved a hand vaguely at the sky. 'The sunset.'

'Oh.' Scorpius laughed huskily. 'I'm definitely getting higher, though.' Albus laughed with him, taking the spliff.

A sudden commotion from behind made them both look around, and they saw Rose Weasley shoving the long hanging branches aside to step under the shelter of the tree. She did not look happy at all; in fact, she was glaring at them both. It didn't help her expression just made them both giggle more.

'Are you two smoking weed?' she asked incredulously.

Albus flicked the butt of the spliff into the lake. 'Us? No! Why'd you think that?'

She rolled her eyes. 'I knew it. You can hide it from our parents, Albus, but not from me.'

He sighed and threw an arm over his eyes. 'Whatever, Rose. What do you want?'

'I don't want anything with you. I want him,' she said, indicating to Scorpius, who was still lounging in the grass. He looked around at her, his eyebrows raised.

'I always suspected you wanted this hot body, Rose, but surely you could've waited until we had some privacy,' he said, smiling crookedly at her. 'Unless, of course, that excites you…'

'Oh shut up,' she groaned. 'We're meant to be doing Prefect duties together. Mentoring the Third Years, remember?'

'Fuck.'

'Indeed. Patet capitis!'

'Fucking hell, Weasley! That hurt!' yelled Scorpius, grabbing his skull. She smirked.

'You shouldn't be taking drugs on the school lawn, then. Come on, let's go talk to some kids about their feelings. Oh, and Albus, Professor Flint wants to speak to you, so I guess you'd better stop being high as well. Patet capitis!'

Scorpius swore under his breath again, but got up and followed her out, leaving Albus on the ground threatening to curse Rose. The spell had cleared his head, and he was already missing how relaxed and content he'd felt two minutes ago. Rose didn't notice him glare at her, however, as she set off into a spiel about what their duties as mentors were.

'So, according to Professor Longbottom, we just have to chat with them, check they're feeling alright, and monitor how they're doing in their schoolwork. Anyone who's struggling will get assigned more regular sessions with us, and if there's anything we can't sort ourselves we have to pass them on to teachers.'

'How often do we have to do this?' sighed Scorpius.

'Twice a week, but we can do tutoring outside of that, if we want to.'

'Joy. And how many snotty little kids do we get?'

She gave him a disapproving look. 'Calling them that isn't a good start, Scorpius.'

'Oh, whoops! How many?'

'I don't know how many, just that it's a mixture from all four Houses.'

Scorpius quickly found that mentoring the Third Years was almost as fun as he'd imagined it to be. Most of the kids wanted to be there even less than him, and gave monosyllabic answers until he'd finished the list of questions he was meant to ask before legging it out the door. Rose, across the room, seemed to be getting much chattier with her group of kids. Scorpius figured that just meant he'd finish much before her, which was a silver lining.

Only a few of the kids really stuck in his mind. One was a Ravenclaw girl called Harriet who didn't have any academic or social issues but insisted on telling him all about her father's research on potions that fixed hair loss. A Hufflepuff boy sat down and immediately sneezed all over the desk. And then there was a Slytherin boy called Benedict Kirkby, who'd been referred for mentoring because, according to the notes Flint had passed on to Scorpius, he had not handed in any homework for ten weeks in a row the year before, and was not looking to improve. In red beside the boy's name, Flint had scrawled in red ink: "Possible Durmstrang transfer".

He expected a stroppy, overgrown boy with too many spots and too little vocabulary, the usual thuggish sort that still plagued Slytherin House. Instead he found a fairly small, skinny boy with glasses and a mop of brown hair, who grinned at Scorpius when he sat down. He recognised the boy - he could usually be found regaling a group in the Common Room with some tall story.

'Hullo, Kirkby,' he said in a resigned voice. It had been a long two hours, and Kirkby was about as pliable as an iron poker when it came to making him do things he didn't want to do. Scorpius had spent what felt like most of his Prefect duties the year before chasing the boy back into the Common Room when he was out in the castle after curfew.

'You look rubbish, Malfoy,' said Kirkby, casually picking at a gap between his crooked front teeth.

'And you're no cherub.'

'Never said I was. So, give me the lecture, then. Let's get it over with.'

Scorpius raised his eyebrows. 'You're not meant to want to be lectured.'

'I don't want to be lectured. I want to finish the session and get back outside, a bunch of us are playing catch with a Quodpot ball.'

'A Quodpot ball? So it…'

'Explodes, yes.'

Scorpius sighed again. He'd sighed so much in the last two hours that he worried his lungs were becoming chronically deprived of oxygen. 'You should've been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin.'

'It is mostly Gryffindors that I'm playing with. But I see it as ambition, not stupidity, that I think I can win the game without it exploding on me. So what do you want to say to me.'

'Well, your academic record is abysmal. Very little homework completed, none of it handed in on time, and what you do do is shoddy at best. Any reason for it?'

Kirkby shrugged. 'I'm an idiot?'

'Yeah, but you're not. Flint says your classwork is stellar, you just don't do anything outside of class.'

'So? Why do you care?'

Scorpius stared at him. 'To be honest, I don't. But Flint's written here that you'll be lined up for a transfer to Durmstrang if you don't improve. And if that happens when I'm meant to be mentoring you, it'll look bad on me, so Flint will think less of me, and I need a good reference from him, as much as I try not to care about that stuff. So here's what's going to happen. You're going to come to every one of these mentoring sessions, I'm going to go through your schoolwork and make sure you've done it and that it's up to standard.'

'I won't turn up,' said Kirkby immediately. 'Sorry.'

'You've forgotten I'm a Prefect. I'll just put you in detention, and we can do it then.'

'You seem to be putting a lot of effort into my well-being,' said Kirkby, raising his eyebrows and giving him a calculating look from behind the large frames of his glasses. 'Do you actually care?'

'No,' repeated Scorpius, leaning across the desk. 'But if Flint agrees to let me just tutor you, I don't have to bother with any of your boring, vapid classmates. Comprende, mi amigo?'

There was a pause, and then Kirkby grinned. 'Alright. Deal. I'm going to go, now.' And before Scorpius could answer, he'd jumped up and skipped out the room. As his robes whipped out of sight, Scorpius leant back in his chair and yawned, stretching.

'Can we call it a day?' he called across the room to Rose. She'd just finished talking to a small girl in plaits who seemed to have walked in, sat down, and instantly burst into tears. The girl shuffled out, still looking rather red. Scorpius was surprised to see how tired Rose was as well. She nodded. 'Great. See you, Ginger. Oh by the way, before I go, I've seen the team your cousin is putting together. Pretty weak, I must say. Except you - you're still dynamite, and seeing that arse on a broomstick is an added positive.'

She glared at him, which only made him smirk wider. 'Of course you'd say that, Malfoy, seeing as you're a complete arse yourself!'

'Not great banter, Weasley. Fitting, as you're in the Gryffindor Team. You must feel right at home amongst them. _Especially_ that Goodwin.'

She stood up and swung her schoolbag onto her shoulder, with such force that it swung round and would've smacked him in the middle if he hadn't jumped out the way. Instead, it caught on a desk and the seam split open. Books and parchment flew out in all directions. An ink bottle rolled across the desktop and fell, Scorpius catching it with a spell an inch from the floor.

Swearing under her breath, Rose waved her wand so that the school things flew back into her arms, and then repaired the schoolbag. Scorpius couldn't help his smile.

'Better keep a hold on that temper, Weasley. It won't lead to anything good,' he said.

'Oh fuck _off_ , Malfoy!' she snapped.

'Gladly.' He slung his own schoolbag over his shoulder and with a quick bow, strolled out the room. He was still chuckling at the look on her face when he reached the Common Room.

He retrieved Albus from his usual spot in the Slytherin Library - a particularly well-cushioned alcove - and dragged him to a small sitting room that the Sixth Year had commandeered for their own. There was usually a good crowd of classmates hanging out in the evenings, and Scorpius insisted that Albus had to spend time there as part of his effort to be sociable.

'I don't like big groups,' muttered Albus mulishly.

'Tough, you're going to have to. I don't see why you're complaining so much, the Parlour Room's great, especially since Langwith installed a whisky cabinet disguised as a bookcase. Even you can't want books over whisky.'

'Guess not,' said Albus, shrugging.

When they arrived, there was a lively debate going on about goblin rights, which was a heated issue for the Ministry of Magic at that time. Ever since House Elves had been awarded a series of civil rights, mostly due to the Minister for Magic and Albus' aunt, Hermione Granger, the goblin community had been demanding the end to a series of restrictions placed on them.

'They can't have wands,' Langwith was saying. 'That is unequivocal. Wands are for wizards.'

'But we'll never have good relations with them if we don't allow them to. Most goblins see it as an insult, as if they can't be trusted,' retorted Vittoria Zabini, Leo Zabini's twin sister.

'Well they can't be trusted.'

'What do you think, Albus?' said one of the girls, quite suddenly. It was Zelda St John, the girl who'd been with Adelaide outside the Charms classroom. She was sat with Adelaide again, the two of them lounging across a sofa together. Adelaide's long legs were on Zelda's lap, and Albus was momentarily distracted, until he realised everyone was staring at him. He reddened, and hoped that they all just thought he'd been thinking quite hard.

'Me?'

'Yes. You're quite clever about these things, and your family is so involved,' said Zelda, smiling at him.

'Oh. Right. I … I've always thought we restrict them too much. It's a bit unfair. But giving them wands would be too much, too fast.'

Everyone nodded, and Albus focussed very hard on his whisky tumbler. He didn't like the fact that, of everyone, Adelaide hadn't been looking his way. She didn't even seem to be listening to the conversation; her eyes seemed to be miles away, staring off into the distance at the flickering shadows on the opposite wall.

The group started to thin out soon after, as the clock chimed eleven, and Albus used this an excuse to leave himself. He'd done enough socialising for one day, he decided. He expected Scorpius to protest when he stood up, but to his surprise he found that it was Zelda who spoke:

'You're leaving?' she called, her eyes widening at him. He nodded. 'Don't you want to sit with us for a bit longer?'

'No. I'm going to bed,' he said, shrugging. He wondered why her face fell at his words.

'Oh. I guess we'll see you tomorrow then, Albus.'

'Right.'

He left the room, and found that Scorpius was following him. He caught up to Albus at the spiral staircase up to their dormitory, and slapped him on the back of the head. 'Clot!'

'What was that for?' protested Albus, spinning round. He rubbed the back of his head, frowning at Scorpius.

'You oblivious idiot. Zelda was totally coming onto you. And no offence, you're a great guy, but she's fit enough to do better,' said Scorpius, entirely blunt. Albus stared at him, his hand still on the back of his head.

'She was?'

'Yes! And you're so wound up over Adelaide bloody Gray that you didn't notice. For Merlin's sake, Albus, Gray is in a relationship and will not be coming your way anytime soon. Sure, you like her a lot, but for the moment just try and enjoy yourself, instead of wasting your time pining after her. Play the field a bit.'

'You really think so?' asked Albus, starting up the spiral staircase.

'Of course I do.'

'So you think Zelda likes me?'

'No. Sorry, but she was just flirting to see how you'd react. And as you reacted with all the social skills of a silverback gorilla, and she has some self-respect, she's probably already moved on. But I have heard a rumour that Katie Blossom of Gryffindor is into you.'

'Katie Blossom? As in Rose's best friend?'

'The very same.'

He thought for a while. It was true that he was going nowhere with Adelaide. And Katie was quite pretty, in the way that a pin-up girl is, with her curvy figure and head of blonde curls. 'Alright, I'll give it a go. I think my side of the bet is taking more effort, you know.'

'Are you kidding? You have to party and hang out with pretty girls, I have to do Transfiguration and Herbology. Sound fair?'

'I'm not hitting you, though. That slap hurt.'

'Oh, grow up.'

The next day was a Saturday, the first one of the term. Quidditch trials were scheduled over the weekend, and Gryffindor had theirs on Saturday afternoon. This was quite a spectator sport, as the Gryffindors were so famed for being daring and determined that their tryouts were always packed with absolutely talentless no-hopers. Scorpius and Albus decided to take their homework to the stands, where it was quickly forgotten in favour of jeering and yelling at the hopefuls. They joined a fairly large group of classmates.

'Choose him! We want him on the team!' the crowd of Slytherins yelled at one particularly abysmal boy who missed every single time he threw the Quaffle at the goal and rounded it off by crashing into the ground.

Albus didn't join much of the shouting, preferring to just sit and enjoy the sight of his older brother getting increasingly angry and frustrated by them. Rose and Lily, his sister, weren't much better. By the time the tryouts finished, Rose and Lily were so red in the face, it clashed with their fiery hair. The two of them were helping James with tryouts; Rose was a Chaser on the team, and Lily, to everyone's surprise, was a star Beater. James had always taken the position of Seeker, of course.

'Gryffindors always need to be brought down a peg or two,' he said airily to Scorpius, when his friend voiced a worry that they'd gone too far. One Second Year Gryffindor had left the pitch in angry tears. 'It's good for them.'

'I'd have thought you'd feel bad about winding up your siblings like that,' replied Scorpius, as they left the stands.

'And there speaks someone who does not have siblings,' said Albus.

Their conversation was interrupted just then by a loud commotion below them. They hurried down the last flight of stairs and found several students in the midst of a fierce duel. In unison, they both pulled out their wands and cast Shield Charms between the students, sending them all flying backwards onto the grass. To his right, Albus saw three Slytherin Fourth Years, sprawled on the ground looking much the worse for wear. One seemed to have had his eyebrows replaced with long antennae. And to his left, he saw a small girl with bright hair, who he immediately recognised to be -

'Lily!' he exclaimed, releasing his Shield Charm and hurrying over to her. The three Slytherins picked themselves off the ground and hurried off at Scorpius' chivvying. His younger sister looked around, scowling at him. Her hair was slightly in disarray, and her face was still quite red, but other than that she was entirely unscathed. He couldn't help but feel proud of the fact she had fought off three other students without being touched herself.

'Oh, hello Albus,' she said in a rather sarcastic voice. 'How nice to see you. Was it your minions you just sent off? I think you were all in the stands together, trying to sabotage our tryouts.'

'I didn't send anyone to duel you, Lily. It was harmless banter, that's all,' he said.

'It's not banter if not everyone's laughing!' she protested.

'What are you, an anti-bullying poster? Anyway, whatever the issue is, you shouldn't be duelling like this! How many times do we have to tell you? You're going to get in serious trouble next time a teacher catches you at it, and Mum and Dad are running out of patience,' he said.

Lily tossed her hair back. 'You're a clever guy, Albus, but you're _terrible_ at lectures. Alright, I'll try not to duel. Very sorry about hexing those boys, even though they started it. Happy?'

'Not really,' he said.

'Not my problem. Bye, brother.'

And there was nothing he could do but watch her disappear off, feeling incredibly exasperated. He looked around and saw Scorpius stood a few feet away. 'You're lucky to not have siblings, you know.'

That evening, after a few drinks to celebrate the new team members, Rose went up to Daniel's dormitory. She'd always found his bed more comfortable than hers, and slid immediately into it, pulling the covers up around her and watching him get ready for bed. He pulled off his robes, and was pulling off his t-shirt when he turned around and saw her watching. His boyish face broke into a grin. 'I see you staring, Weasley,' he said lightly, pulling the t-shirt over his head and exaggeratedly flexing his muscles.

'Stop stalling and jump in here,' she said, throwing a corner of the covers back. He laughed and stripped his jeans off, sliding in beside her.

'Well if you're so eager,' he said, mock-reluctant, before flicking the curtains closed and pulling her close for a kiss. She slid her body to press against his, her arms and legs wrapping around him. She loved how his broad, hard body felt against her own soft curves, how his hands gripped her with such strength. His lips kissed hers so fiercely it left her mouth bruised, and it wasn't long until she felt his cock stiffen against her thigh, and her own wetness was soaking through her thin underwear.

Over in Slytherin House, things had of course gone a little wilder than a few drinks and missionary sex in a bed. Langwith had decided that it was a night for Euphoria, and it hadn't taken much convincing for the others to join in. The dried leaf of the Euphoria Vine, when placed on someone's tongue, quickly dissolved, and it caused intense feelings of joy and exhilaration, giving it its name. That wasn't anything special, only if it particularly strong and taken with alcohol, it caused hallucinations as well.

Albus found himself lying spread-eagled on the floor, staring at the ceiling above him. The stone seemed to be dissolving, forming into an infinitely long tunnel, and floating down from the darkness above were multicoloured petals, that swirled and dissolved inches above his outstretched hands. He was oblivious to the commotion about him. Scorpius was on the windowsill, muttering about "the elephants, all the elephants", while Fitzroy lay on the floor, giggling uncontrollably.

'Absolute messes.' The girls had arrived. Adelaide and Vittoria exchanged a look, smirking, and then stepped neatly around the boys to the alcohol cabinet. It was specially charmed so that only the Sixth Years could access it, with special keys that they'd all made together. Only Zelda made the effort to care for the boys - she hurried over to Albus and put a cushion under his head as he tossed back and forth, placing her hand on his forehead.

'Come on, Zelda, come get a drink!' called Vittoria, waving a bottle of Firewhisky at her. Zelda smiled, and left Albus on the floor to join her friends.

'Looking good, girls,' said Leo Zabini, strolling in through the door. It was difficult to say who was the more attractive twin, as he joined Vittoria in front of the fireplace. As was the fashion, they were both in Muggle clothing, and being outrageously rich, their outfits probably cost as much as a normal student's yearly allowance. As was often their accidental habit, they'd managed to dress in almost matching outfits; Vittoria in a low-cut ivory dress, while Zabini looked like a classical rich youth in his black shirt and white chinos, a red tie loose around his neck.

'Hello, brother. I don't remember inviting you to join us,' said Vittoria, pouring him out a whisky anyway. Leo accepted the drink, shrugging. 'Then again, you've never waited for an invitation to go anywhere.'

'Never needed to,' he retorted, taking a mouthful of whisky. He glanced over at Adelaide and Zelda, sat side-by-side on a sofa. 'What's wrong, ladies? Not drinking?'

Zelda glanced at Adelaide, but her friend was already draining her tumbler. 'You must not know me, Zabini. I'm always drinking.'

Leo laughed deeply, and after a second Vittoria joined in, refilling Adelaide's glass. 'My bad. You have my respect, Gray.'

'You say that as if you think I care, Zabini.'

'What about you, Zelda?' said Vittoria, glancing over at her. Zelda made sure to smile, widening her eyes in a mock-innocent fashion.

'Me? Drink?' She necked the whisky, using all her self-control to not wince as it burned the back of her throat.

Leo was pouring them the third round, a few minutes later, when the door opened again and they all looked around to see Zachary Bowles, flanked by two other Seventh Years. He smiled as they all called out to him, and Leo conjured up three more tumblers. Zelda sighed as Zachary dropped in between her and Adelaide, and she slid onto the floor. Albus was still lying sprawled in the shadows across the room, his hands reaching up for something only he could see, his lips moving soundlessly. Scorpius had slumped, half-unconscious, against the wall.

The other two Seventh Years sat down, one on a vacant armchair and the other on the floor beside Zelda. She glanced at him through her lashes. Malcolm Lodowick - not the most handsome, but very talented in other ways, if the rumours were true. She took a sip of whisky, hoping no one noticed her considering him.

They drank for a while, the conversation flowing back and forth, until finally as the embers of the fire grew low they began to disperse, drifting off in separate directions. Leo and Malcolm grabbed Fitzroy and Scorpius, dragging them from the room. Albus, apparently now unconscious on the floor, wasn't noticed.

Zelda stood up to follow Vittoria as she made to leave. She glanced back at Adelaide, but her friend was deep in conversation with Zachary, and so they left the two of them to it.

As the door clicked shut behind Zelda, Adelaide suddenly noticed that the room had emptied, and she made to stand and follow, only Zachary grabbed her hand and pulled her back down onto the sofa. He pulled Adelaide against him and kissed her, his hands pressing tight against the small of her back, holding her close. Her arms encircled his neck, her fingers in his soft blonde hair, and she couldn't help herself from leaning against him.

Chuckling slightly, Zachary moved his hands lower, slipping under the folds of her short, pleated skirt. She'd always gone for the preppy style. She gasped as his hands slid over her soft buttocks, his fingers pulling at the thin material of her small, lacy underwear. She pulled her lips away from his slightly, whispering: 'Are you sure we should do this…'

He didn't reply, moving to kiss her neck instead, and she moaned uncontrollably as his fingers slid between her legs. 'Zachary … what if someone walks in?'

This time he did stop reply, although his fingers didn't move. 'Doesn't that excite you?'

She looked up at him, unable to deny it, and he smiled. 'Come on.' He grabbed her thighs, pulling her across his lap to straddle him, and she wrapped her legs around his body, making sure to rub against his crotch as she did. His lips found hers again, his hands feeling beneath her skirt and unbuttoning her blouse. She let him just kiss her for a while, let his hands do their work until she was wet, and then her own hands slid down his body to his trousers, fumbling slightly with the buttons. He groaned despite himself as she pulled his jeans down to his knees, her hands grasping his hardened cock. He slid her underwear aside and she lowered herself onto him, moaning as she felt him slide inside her.

'Oh Merlin … you're so fucking hot …' he gasped, as she moved and he bucked his hips to thrust himself deeper inside her. It wasn't long before she orgasmed, and he hardly managed to keep himself together until then, burying his face in her chest as he came with a groan.

There was a pause, and they sat against each other, breathing heavily. Then Adelaide slid off him, standing up, and he pulled his trousers up again. He took her hand, and they left together in silence.

Albus' eyes flickered open. He watched their dark figures leave in the flickering darkness, his body seeming paralysed against the floor. There were some things he knew he did not hallucinate.

The next weekend was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and this time Albus didn't even wait for Scorpius to prompt him. A few days before, during a break they spent in the courtyard outside the Great Hall, he suddenly walked away from Scorpius and, summoning all the resolve he had, went over to Katie Blossom. He'd noticed her, stood with Rose and a couple of other Gryffindors, and they all looked around in surprise as he reached them.

'What do you want, Albus?' asked Rose immediately, raising her eyebrows at him. He ignored her, turning to Katie.

'Katie. I was thinking maybe we could get a drink together, this weekend. At Hogsmeade.'

Silence. He wasn't sure whether to keep looking at her, or if that would be seen as staring. She looked down at the ground, and shrugged. 'Okay. Meet me at eleven.'

'Right. See you then.'

He headed back over to Scorpius, who had watched the entire thing of course. 'Well, what do you think?'

'I think you're learning, young grasshopper,' said Scorpius. 'Although you're still an idiot. Is Katie your girlfriend now?'

'No,' said Albus.

'But you're dating her.'

'I'm going on a date.'

'Probably soon to be multiple. If you don't screw up, that is. And you're such a socially awkward idiot that you'll probably accidentally end up in a relationship with her,' said Scorpius, sighing and running a hand through his hair. 'Let's get going, Glotten's classroom is four flights up and you know how he is about lateness.'

'How long do you think Glotten's going to make us learn Troll?' asked Albus, as they headed into the castle again. 'I mean, they only have a vocabulary of about fifty words, how long can it take for us to learn it?'

'And to be honest, if anyone actually wants to use Troll, there are some serious questions to be asked,' said Scorpius, laughing. 'At least the translations are easy, because nothing else is at the moment.'

It was true that as much as Scorpius had claimed that Sixth Year would be easy, with no exams at the end, the reality was quite the opposite. The teachers were piling almost ludicrous amounts of homework on them, and on top of that they had to start using non-verbal spells, which were horribly tricky.

To Albus' intense frustration, he was finding it almost impossible to hack non-verbal spells. His heart sunk whenever a teacher announced them, and he was spending constant lessons in a fit of angry frustration. The worst was Charms. He was quickly sinking to among the worst in the class, and he hated it. He'd never struggled with anything like this in all his academic career.

'Struggling again, Mr Potter?' Professor Chang had stopped in front of his desk. He glanced up at her, and then down at his desk, where his goblet was still entirely empty of water. Beside him, Scorpius was examining his own goblet, full of bright clear liquid, and Albus felt a sense of shame rising inside him.

'Hmm,' continued Chang, tapping a fingernail on the desk. 'Non-verbal spells can't be learnt out of a book, Mr Potter. It's all about the mind.'

'Yes, Professor.'

'This requires extra work. You need tutoring, not just extra homework - and I'm sure you have enough of that already. Come to my study every Monday and Thursday, and we'll see if we can fix this. We start next week.'

She strode away, and Albus exchanged a look with Scorpius, who raised his eyebrows, and shrugged.

Saturday dawned with overcast and grey sky, a chill wind whistling about the castle. The summer felt well and truly gone, as students slowly dragged themselves from their beds, nursing hangovers or just laziness, and began their day. Albus found himself dressing oddly carefully, pulling on his softest cashmere sweater and a pair of blue chinos, attempting to pull a comb through his hair. It was pointless, of course - his hair stayed just the same as always, a tangled mess.

He met Zelda after breakfast, in the Entrance Hall. She did look very pretty, in an unseasonably summery dress and little cream-coloured jacket. Her neatly curled hair was held back by a thin pink ribbon. 'Hi,' she said, smiling brightly at him as he walked over.

'Hey, Zelda,' said Albus. 'Do you … want to go?'

As they set off down the path towards Hogwarts, Albus passed Scorpius and caught his eye. Scorpius grinned, and gave him an exaggerated wink, waving at them. He fingered his wand in his pocket, resisting the urge to jinx his friend, and attempted to strike up a conversation with Katie.

It turned out to be a better day than Albus was expecting. Although he'd seen Katie a lot over the past few years, as she and Rose were always together, he realised that he'd never had a proper conversation with her. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd always thought of Katie as a pretty airhead. But they actually had quite a fun time - window shopping, having a drink of Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, sharing a packet of sweets from Honeydukes. And despite himself, he found he was agreeing to meet up with her again as soon as they were both free.

He left her in the Entrance Hall, and started towards the Common Room to try and find Scorpius, as he knew his friend would be waiting to hear all about it with a fresh batch of jokes. He'd barely made it down to the dungeons, however, when he found himself being accosted by Rose. She pinned him against the wall with some non-verbal spell, glaring at him.

'You okay, Rose?' he gasped - the spell was rather tight on his chest. 'Do you not think we could talk … without using spells on me?'

'No,' she said, stepping closer. She looked really very menacing. 'I want you to know, if you're going to start dating my best friend, you've got me on your back. I will be watching your every move, Albus, and if you put a toe wrong, if you hurt her one _tiny_ bit, I will be after you. She's too nice to do anything, but I'm not.'

'Rose - relax - I don't want to hurt Katie!' he said. 'Now can you please let me go?'

She narrowed her eyes to slits, and then after a pause flicked her wand up and released the spell. He stumbled forwards, breathing deeply and massaging his chest. 'Don't forget it, Albus,' she said, as she turned and disappeared up the stairs.

'My ribs certainly won't,' he muttered, shaking his head at the melodrama of his cousin and continuing on his way.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

'Good evening, Albus. Come and have a seat.'

Albus loitered awkwardly in the doorway for a second longer, and then shrugged and entered Professor Chang's study. She was sat at her desk, and pulled out the chair beside her, indicating for him to sit in it with one delicate hand. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, he sat down beside her. She was very close all of a sudden, and he could smell her sweet perfume.

'What are we doing today, Professor?' he asked, trying not to look at her for too long. He'd always laughed at the boys who mooned after her, but now that she was up close, he had to admit that she really was very attractive.

'We need to fix this block you have about non-verbal spells. They're really quite simple, but you need to learn to control your magic properly. To … dominate it, maybe. So, let's take it back to some simpler spells.'

She opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a feather, placing it atop a small stack of books. 'So, Albus, please make this feather hover in the air in front of us. Without magic.'

He hadn't had to think about how to make objects fly since he was eleven years old, yet here he was feeling his heart race with nervousness as he raised his wand and pointed it at the feather. It was clear in his head, his mind screamed _Wingardium Leviosa_ , yet the feather only twitched once, and then rested on the books again, motionless. He stared at it, humiliation rising inside him.

'It's alright, Albus. Let's try again.'

'What's the point? It's useless, I'm just stupid at this. I can't do this.'

'Yes, you can,' she said, and she rested her hand on his forearm. As she did, he felt a jolt run up his arm, and his heartbeat quickened. 'Try again. Try and feel the magic, feel the power inside you. You know it's there.'

He nodded, and raised his wand again, narrowing his gaze at the feather. He said the words in his head again, but this time it was slightly different - there was a pull in his chest, a sort-of tug, and he instantly recognised it. He'd been feeling it for years, whenever he did a spell, without realising. It was weaker than before, more difficult to master. But, as he clenched his wand so hard his knuckles turned white, he watched as the feather rose several inches from the desk, twitched a few times, and then fell again.

Slumping back in his chair, Albus could barely contain his exhilaration. Shaking slightly, he turned to look at Chang, and saw she had a broad smile on her face as well.

'Well done, Albus! That was truly excellent work. We'll get this cracked, I promise.'

She took his hand, squeezing it for a moment. 'That's all for today. You shouldn't tire yourself out.'

Albus left the study and virtually skipped down the corridor, a stupid grin plastered across his face. He _could_ do non-verbal spells, he would crack it! And Professor Chang would help him, she'd make sure he could do it. As he thought about it, a warm feeling filled him, and when he reached a staircase he was tempted to slide down the banister. His hands were actually resting on it, when a loud commotion behind him made him turn around.

Two people were quite clearly shouting at each other, and a second after Albus turned around, they burst through the door from the passageway that he'd just exited. They didn't notice him, stood a few feet away, until he yelled out their names:

'Rose! Scorpius!'

They stopped short, and looked around at him, seeming extremely surprised to find him there. 'What's going on?'

'She can explain. I'm done,' snapped Scorpius, sweeping his dishevelled hair back and marching past Albus, down the stairs, and out of sight. Albus turned back to Rose, who was still breathing heavily and looked rather pink in the face.

'It's unusual for Scorpius to get as angry as you do,' said Albus, walking towards her. 'What happened?'

Rose sighed, looking down at the ground. 'Oh, I don't know. We were patrolling together, and we were talking -'

'If you can call that talking,' muttered Albus.

'Are you going to let me talk?' snapped Rose, and he raised his hands. 'There's this new legislation that my mum's bringing in. It's really boring, just some new checks on how businesses manage finances, but some people are saying its biased against certain businesses run by certain families.'

'Let me guess which families,' said Albus. 'Does one of them start with M?'

'Malfoy's father is one of the people speaking against it. He's saying it's going to be really negative for him, and that it's unjust and all.'

'Is it?' asked Albus.

'I don't know any better than you! Mum doesn't include me in the Inter-Departmental Memos, does she? I only read the newspaper to keep up in conversations, it's you and Hugo who're the nerds about all that. But Scorpius started saying that my Mum had it out for his family and that she was only passing laws that benefitted her and her friends, so of course I got angry, and then he was already angry, and well … you saw how it ended up.'

'I heard it first,' he said, smirking. 'Aren't you meant to be stopping trouble during Prefect patrols, not causing it?'

She aimed a kick at him, laughing despite herself. 'As much as your friend is an arse, I'm sorry I got him so angry. I didn't mean to make him that upset.'

'He'll be fine,' said Albus airily. 'It's just a temper tantrum.'

They'd reached the turning towards the dungeons, so he bade her goodnight and headed through the darkened castle towards Slytherin House, muttering "evening" to the ghosts he passed. In the dungeon passageways he passed a small bespectacled boy, who he recognised as Kirkby, the one Scorpius was mentoring, and as it was past ten o'clock he dragged the boy back to the Common Room before he could lose them any house points.

He found Scorpius sat on one of the low-backed armchairs by a fireplace, staring moodily into the flames. Quietly, he dropped his schoolbag on the floor and sat down beside his friend. They sat in silence for a while.

'So why did you get so angry?' asked Albus. 'You never usually lose your cool like that. Something wrong?'

Scorpius sighed, and ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. 'I'm going to go with no.'

'Because Rose told me about what happened, and anyway I think I've read about that law that the minister is drafting. It's just a load of dull economic rules, why is it such an issue? So it may cause your father's companies to lose money. That's annoying, but you're unbelievably rich - surely a few Galleons here and there can't harm things much?'

'It's a bit more than "a few Galleons". Anyway, it's not just some rules. The Minister's implementing a system, with the law, to root out any corruption or malpractice within businesses, to ensure that there's no wrong-doing.'

Albus stared at his friend. 'But that won't affect you, will it?' Scorpius did not answer. 'Scorpius, will that affect your father?'

After nearly a minute, Scorpius turned to him, and smiled. 'I guess everything catches up in the end.'

He stood up, and left the Common Room. Albus did not follow him for a long time.

The subject of the new law was not broached over the next week. Scorpius did not mention it, and Albus did not want to bring it up himself. They didn't speak much, anyway, but that was more because they were both very busy. Quidditch season had started in earnest, which kept Scorpius out on the pitch in practices several times a week, and when he wasn't doing that he had the mounds of homework or Prefect duties to contend with. He was now entirely filling his mentoring sessions with monitoring Kirkby, and while that was preferable to hearing the whines of other kids, the boy wasn't exactly easy to handle. Meanwhile Albus had his own homework, tutoring with Professor Chang, and he kept finding that Katie wanted to spend time with him.

In the end, neither of them brought up the new law, as that job was done for them. Albus suspected something was wrong as soon as they walked into the Common Room; stares followed him and Scorpius as they crossed to the entrance. He was only sure of it when they reached the Entrance Hall, however. They'd hardly entered it when three boys in red and gold ties approached them, ugly expressions on their faces.

The middle boy, a Beater on the Gryffindor Team, strode up to Scorpius and shoved him hard in the chest. Surprised, Scorpius stumbled backwards onto the hard stone floor, and his hand dove towards his wand in his robes pocket. The boys made to attack him properly, only before they could Albus had dragged Scorpius off the ground and was pulling him away, his own wand out and pointing at the three boys. He knew he could take all three of them easily, and he was quite sure they knew that, too.

'You're scum, Malfoy! You and your rotten father!' yelled one of the boys.

'Keep moving,' snapped Albus, shoving Scorpius into the Great Hall. They walked straight down the Slytherin Table to an empty space and sat down. Scorpius was shaking so badly he couldn't butter his toast - after a few tries he dropped the knife and gave up, clenching his fists. 'What's going on, Scorpius?'

Albus' question was answered for him, however, as at that moment a cylindrical object was dropped onto the bacon platter in front of them. They'd arrived after the owl post, and as usual any owls with packages for absent students were waiting in the rafters high above. A brown owl swooped low over their heads, taking the Knut that Albus held up for him.

Scorpius was already reaching for the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , snapping the tie and unrolling it. Even from upside down, Albus could read the headline clearly:

 ** _Malfoy: King of Corruption_**

There was a large photo of a man Albus recognised to be Scorpius' father, glaring bitterly at the camera. His hands were cuffed magically in front of him. Albus looked up at his friend, at a loss for what to say. He heard the whispers now, saw the looks that were shot at them from across the Great Hall. Even some of the teachers seemed to be watching Scorpius.

'You read it,' said Scorpius, his voice low. 'I … I can't do it.'

Albus nodded, and picked up the paper.

 _In a move that has shocked many but surprised few, Draco Malfoy has recently been arrested on a number of serious charges of business misdemeanours. These include bribery, coercion, and corruption, and have been brought to light due to the recent, and clearly necessary, reforms spearheaded by the Minister for Magic._

 _As of yet, it is unknown whether Mr Malfoy faces jail time for his actions, but it is clear the case built against him is very serious. He faces sixteen separate charges in total, and a number of witnesses have already come forward to testify against him._

 _'He extorted me three years ago,' said Mr Limpet of No. 16 Diagon Alley. 'Wanted my premises for below market price. Wouldn't take no for an answer, and threatened violence! Just a chip off the old block, really!' Draco Malfoy is, of course, the son of the famed Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, who avoided Azkaban only on a technicality, and the testimony of Harry Potter. The elder Malfoy has retired to the South of France with his wife Narcissa (location undisclosed)._

 _For years, it was thought that Draco Malfoy had turned a new leaf and forged a different direction for the family, supporting many philanthropic ventures, including a new wing in St Mungos for traumatic disorders. Clearly, however, this was all a facade to hide his shady, almost "gangster-ish" wheeling and dealing._

 _Currently, Mr Malfoy is being held by the Ministry with no bail awarded, as the Wizengamot has ruled he poses a high risk for escaping if allowed any freedom, even without a wand. Mr Malfoy has declined to give us a comment, but several others involved have been generous enough to do so, including Mrs …_ (story continued on pages six and seven)

Albus folded up the paper, placing it down on the table so they didn't have to look at the photo or the headline. He didn't want to read any more. Scorpius was staring at his plate, his fork held slack in his hand, seeming to not be seeing any of it. He didn't know what to say.

'You knew this could happen, didn't you,' he said in the end. Scorpius nodded. 'That's why you got so angry at Rose.'

'My father never gave me any explicit details, about any of his work. He'd tell me I was too young, that I wouldn't understand. At first it annoyed me, I thought he was patronising me. But slowly, I overheard things, when he spoke to partners, or to my mother, and they thought I wasn't there. And I realised that he was keeping me in the dark to protect me, and himself.'

'Could you be called to testify?' asked Albus. He didn't ask Scorpius why he wouldn't have spoken to another adult about his father's businesses, if he knew he was doing wrong. That was the sort of question Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs asked, not Slytherins.

'I think so. And my mother, too. And I'll have to say everything that I know, they put spells on you to make sure you do. Albus,' said Scorpius, and his face was suddenly a mask of anguish. 'What if I'm the one who puts my father in jail?'

'Look,' said Albus, 'it's not certain that your father will go to jail. I mean, he's not powerless, he'll have the best lawyers he can find representing him. And I'm sure he'll have covered his tracks as much as possible. I call it that he'll be a free man again by Christmas. Come on, let's get to Transfiguration.'

Getting to Transfiguration, however, was a harder task than expected. The whispers and sometimes outright jeers followed Scorpius out of the Great Hall, and as they tried to get through the passageways and up staircases to the Transfiguration classroom, the crowds of students seemed to close in around them, jostling and shoving at Scorpius. As they reached the top of the staircase to the classroom, someone's foot managed to catch Scorpius and sent him sprawling across the stone floor. Sniggers broke out around them. As Scorpius tried to pick himself off the floor with as much remaining dignity as he could muster, a spitwad struck him square in the back of the head. The laughter rose, and Albus saw other students reach into their bags and pockets for missiles. He was just pulling out his wand, unsure quite what he was going to do to stop it, when Professor Foxworth appeared.

'What's going on? Malfoy, _why_ are you on the floor? Get up this instant!' she surveyed the crowd, her beady, close-set eyes clearly taking in the whole situation. One boy was brazenly throwing and catching his textbook. 'And get inside the classroom before I have to mark you late. The rest of you had better get moving, too. Now!'

The crowd began to disperse, and Scorpius and Albus hurried into the classroom with a few of their classmates. The others stared as they took their seats. Scorpius' face was inscrutable, but he was very taciturn during the entire lesson, entirely ignoring Albus' feeble attempts at conversation.

The situation came to a head two days later, when Scorpius was on his way back from Quidditch practice. For the first time, he hadn't enjoyed it. The rest of the team hadn't made sly comments or brought up the article, but they hadn't spoken to him either unless absolutely necessary. He was quite happy to volunteer to put the balls away and let them all go ahead.

It was a brief moment of respite from the chaos and nightmare that his life had become, to walk up alone through the darkening school grounds. His mind spun through the events of the past few days, trying to make sense of it all. He'd written to his mother, begging her to send him some more answers, but no reply had come yet. He knew that it was futile to try and contact his father, but he'd asked his mother to sort him a visit. He had to speak to his father, face to face. The mockery and humiliation wouldn't matter so much, if he could just speak to his parents and get some answers for what they did.

By the time he reached the gardens around the castle, it was almost night time, the sunset just a faded red line along the grey horizon. He shivered, pulling his robes around him, hurrying down the narrow paths between unappealing shrubbery and untidy bushes. He didn't want to be caught outside after curfew, even with a valid reason, he didn't think many of the teachers needed much of an excuse to penalise him.

As he reached the main path, leading straight to the back door of the castle, a movement to his left made him stop short. His heart began to beat faster, and his hand slipped into his pocket to grasp his wand. A movement on his right made his head whip around, his eyes squinting into the darkness.

'Hello?' he called out, withdrawing his wand and pointing it towards the bushes. 'Who's there?'

'Your worst nightmare.'

A tall, broad figure stepped into the path directly ahead of him. Scorpius' breath caught in his throat, and he pointed his wand at the figure. 'Don't come nearer. Who are you?'

Someone laughed, maliciously, and Scorpius was shoved from behind. His hand whipped around, his mind forming a spell, and the dark figure yelled in pain, a hand going over his face as it was hit by a Stinging Jinx. But then a second later his wand flew out his hand, and his broomstick was ripped from his grasp. He cursed under his breath, his mind racing. There were at least three or four of them, maybe more, and at least one was a lot bigger than him. The person behind him shoved him again, straight into the figure in front of him. It was too dark to make out their faces, but Scorpius saw enough to recognise a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey.

'Know why we're here, Malfoy? Know why we want to have a little chat to you?' asked the boy, roughly, grabbing the front of his robes. Scorpius shook his head, and he boy laughed. 'Trying to play stupid, then. It's alright, we don't care. We just want you to pay for all the shit your family has done, for years and years.'

'I didn't do anything,' said Scorpius.

'Oh? Really? So it was all your father, then. _He's_ the guilty bastard who ripped off my father, is he?'

'My father is not guilty!' snapped Scorpius, anger rising inside him.

The boy let Scorpius go, and he looked around wildly, but the other three had closed in around them, blocking any chance for escape. 'You're defending your daddy, eh Malfoy? I'd respect that, if you and your daddy weren't scum. But you know what, I'm a fair man. I'll give you a chance to win back some honour, and Merlin knows, your family needs it. You can fight me.'

'I don't want to fight you,' he said, his voice shaking.

'It's not a question of what you want, coward, it's what you're going to do. Raise your fists. Give us space! And don't think of running - my boys will jinx you so hard you'll have to crawl into the castle like a slug, so the whole school can see you for the vermin you are. Now, we're going to fight.'

Scorpius swallowed, and then raised his fists. He hadn't seen a proper Muggle duel before, only the staged versions in the films Albus showed him. In those fights, the plucky little guy always won. He could guess that this one would be different.

He'd read tactics of duelling and of war, and he knew it was often better to strike first, to try and put your enemy on the defensive. So he swung his face, aiming at the other boy's face. As he did, he realised that the lights in the castle meant that while he could only see a silhouette of the boy, his opponent would see him lit up as clearly as daylight. And it worked to the other boy's advantage. He dodged Scorpius' punch easily, and then there was a blur of movement, and it was as if a Bludger had struck Scorpius square on the jaw. He stumbled backwards, his head spinning.

The other boy was laughing again. 'You can do better than that! Come on, I'll give you one free punch.'

Scorpius steadied himself, and headed back towards him. This time he didn't aim for the face, but sunk his fist deep into the boy's stomach. He expected to wind him, but his fist hit a mass of muscle and the boy just looked down, unperturbed. He stared at Scorpius' fist, and then as quick as a snack grabbed his wrist in a grip so tight Scorpius struggled to not cry out.

'That wouldn't be bad, Malfoy, if you were a ten-year-old girl,' murmured the boy. Still holding onto Scorpius' wrist, he twisted his arm, bringing it up and round so that Scorpius was forced to his knees in order to stop him dislocating his arm. The pain was awful, he could almost feel the muscles of his shoulder breaking apart slowly.

'He put up a good effort,' said one of the other boys.

'He did,' agreed Scorpius' opponent. 'He tried. And lost. Which means I can do what I like with you, Malfoy.'

He let go of Scorpius' arm, and punched him in the face again. His fist hit the side of Scorpius' nose and he felt it break with a loud _crunch_ , a spray of blood running down over his lips. Groaning, he fell forward, and found someone grabbing him by the collar, dragging him off the dirt only to punch him again. Stars filled his vision as blood filled his mouth.

'If your father's the King of Corruption, what does that make you?' said one of the boys in a low, menacing voice, as Scorpius was thrown back onto the dirt. 'The crooked prince? Criminal kid?'

'He's not anything,' said another boy. This one was higher. A girl. 'We could hex and curse him, but I think that awards him some sort of honour. Let's show him what he's worth.'

Scorpius groaned as a boot struck him beneath his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. Another hit his stomach, and then a third his spine. He curled into a foetal position, trying to protect his balls, as his attackers struck him him from all sides. At times he wondered if he was even conscious, or alive still, if he was any more than a limp body for them to kick and strike.

And then it was over, and he was lying alone in the dark, listening to their footsteps retreat, their voices fading as they disappeared into the castle. He could feel the hard dirt and stones digging into his sore and aching body. After a while he relaxed, and slipped instantly into blissful unconsciousness.

He didn't know how long it was that he lay there, but suddenly there was a voice in his ear, and someone's hands were on him. He cried out, terrified that his attackers had decided to come back for another round, but the voice wasn't rough or cruel. It spoke quietly in his ear.

'Scorpius, try not to speak. We need to get you back into the castle. Can you stand?'

Was that Albus? The voice was very familiar, and sounded very like Albus.

'Al-bus?'

'Don't speak, idiot! Fred, Louis, help me.'

'Why don't we conjure up a stretcher?'

'Alright, Fred, if you think you can just conjure up a stretcher trustworthy enough to carry a six-foot man into the castle, go for it. I personally don't want to risk him falling again.'

A sigh came from somewhere above Scorpius. 'Alright, I'll go on his other side. Louis, you lead the way. Keep lookout for any teachers. We'll get in trouble too, if we're caught. Come on, let's go.'

Strong hands grasped Scorpius under his arms, and his head gave a strong protest as he was lifted. He slumped forward, and boys swore on both sides of him. 'For Merlin's sake!' exclaimed the one that wasn't Fred. 'Is he at all conscious?'

'I don't know,' said the other one, the one with voice like Albus'. 'Do you think this was because of … you know …'

'Use your head, James!' came a slightly more distant voice, from somewhere up ahead. Scorpius still couldn't open his eyes; he could barely move his feet enough to stop them dragging. 'Malfoy was one of the most popular boys in school until that article about his father came out. Nothing else could've caused this.'

'It's brutal, though,' said the one Scorpius thought was called Fred. 'Who'd have done that? Surely not a Slytherin - they're all about fraternity, right? They might attack someone from another house, but not their own. Ravenclaws are all intellectuals, too in their heads for fighting, especially the Muggle sort. And Hufflepuffs are known for their kindness.'

There was a silence, as all three of them were clearly thinking the same thing. Scorpius could barely even keep track of the conversation. His whole body seemed to be in agony.

'Easy on the steps,' said one of them. They seemed to have reached the castle, as a burst of light turned Scorpius' vision red, and he groaned again. All three voices instantly shushed him. 'If we get him down to the dungeons and into Slytherin hands without being caught it'll be a miracle.'

'Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the Hospital Wing? He might need to see Madame Longbottom…'

'And how would we explain why we were outside the castle at ten past midnight, in possession of a bunch of those pixies Hagrid had brought in for Care of Magical Creatures? It's a bummer that we had to let them go, after all the effort it took to steal them,' sighed the voice on Scorpius' left.

'Not as if we could leave him, and we are meant to be chivalrous,' said the familiar one. 'And Louis, if you shut up and do your job as lookout instead of griping, we might actually manage it.'

None of them spoke for a while after that, except for curses when they had to get down a staircase. Even in Scorpius' confused, battered mind, he worked out that they were down in the dungeons. They'd stopped, and he figured that whoever his helpers were, they were at a loss as to where to go.

'Either of you got any idea where the Slytherin Common Room is?' said the left-hand one. There were murmurs of dissent. 'Right. Really great.'

'Not the moment for sarcasm, Fred.'

'Well do you have an answer?'

'Just let me think! Al must've talked about it, wish he wasn't such a quiet little fucker.'

Al … so it wasn't Albus, but this boy must know him somehow! The thought of Albus seemed to stick in his mind, and his head cleared a little. With stupendous effort, he opened his bruised and split mouth, and said in a slurred voice: 'Straight … on.'

'He _is_ conscious!' one of them exclaimed. 'We'd better do as he says.'

They started on again, and Scorpius tried to work out how he'd get to the Common Room. His body still wasn't working, he didn't even think he'd be able to crawl more than a few metres, but it was a great crime against the house to reveal the location of Slytherin Common Room. He didn't know if anyone from another house ever had actually entered Slytherin House. But he couldn't think how else to get there, without these three carrying him in.

As it turned out, he didn't need to find an answer. They'd hardly turned the next corner when the gloriously familiar voice of Albus Potter called out: 'James? Scorpius! Fuck!'

So it was James, Albus' elder brother, who'd saved him. That was why his voice had seemed so familiar, he'd been hearing it for years, and it was so like Albus's. He'd always thought that James was just an arrogant prick who only thought of himself, but the boy had carried him all the way back into the castle.

'Albus, thank Merlin,' gasped Fred, and Scorpius realised that he and Louis were Albus' cousins. The two of them with James formed an infamous trio.

'How come you're out?' asked Louis.

'We started to get worried when he wasn't back six hours after the end of practice,' said a girl's voice. 'So we came to have a look for him.'

'Glad you did - can you get him back to your Common Room?' asked James.

'Of course,' said Albus. 'Leo - can you help me?'

'Let's just carry him with magic,' said Leo's voice. So it was the Zabinis who'd come out with Albus. He heard the girl, Vittoria, laugh.

'Look, James, we can't thank you enough,' said Albus, as they took hold of Scorpius.

'It's alright, Al. Just get him back before anyone else can lay into him, alright?'

Footsteps echoed as the three boys left the dungeons, and then Scorpius heard someone mutter a spell, and his body was lifted into the air. He hung limply, his limps dangling like a rag doll's as they set off through the dungeons. He wasn't sure how long the rest of the journey took them, but suddenly he was being lowered into a soft, comfortable chair, and a glass of something was pushed against his lips.

'Drink, Scorpius,' said Albus' voice, and obediently he opened his mouth a few inches. The liquid felt hot and burned his throat, stinging his split lips, but a few seconds later his head cleared and he was able to open one of his eyes. The other was swollen shut. But as he was able to think more clearly, at the same time the pain in his body seemed to redouble. He could still feel the _drip drip drip_ of blood from his broken nose, over his top lip into his mouth.

Through his blurred vision, he made out several figures stood in front of him. Albus was the nearest, leaning over him with the glass of potion. 'Where am I?' he mumbled.

'Your dormitory,' said Fitzroy brightly. 'We are lucky you're back.'

'It looks like most of him isn't back,' said Vittoria sharply. 'What the hell happened, Scorpius?'

'Don't be so hard on him,' said Albus in an irritable voice. 'Does he look like he's in a fit state to be questioned? He needs to go to bed, we can all talk tomorrow.'

The others reluctantly agreed, and the girls filed out of the dormitory.

'Can you stand or walk yet, Scorpius?' asked Albus. 'I'll help.'

He took Scorpius' arm, lifting him slowly from the chair and staggering slightly as Scorpius slumped against him, his legs apparently boneless. A thickly muscled arm that had to be Zabini's encircled his torso a second later, and Scorpius was helped across the room and into bed.

'Scorpius,' said Albus, as his shoes were pulled off him. 'I swear this isn't meant to be emasculating, but I've got to put some ointment on you, to bring down the bruising. It's from my uncle's workshop, it's meant to be for when pranks go wrong. I've never used it, but James says it works. Hold still.'

He winced as the thick, cool paste stung his swollen and tender features, but the pain eased a little soon afterwards. He felt suddenly extremely tired, as if he'd been running for days. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to release, and drifted back into unconsciousness.

Waking up the next morning was a painful experience. He could open his good eye properly, and the swelling on his bad eye had gone down so that he could open it a crack. His lips still felt twice their usual size, but he could speak, albeit painfully. The worst was his head. It felt as if someone had spent the night drilling into his skull, like the trepanning he'd read about Muggles doing. And when he tried to move, every muscle and bone in his body put up a protest.

Albus was already up and getting dressed; he was halfway through tying his tie when he noticed Scorpius trying to get up. One hand still holding the tie in place, he pulled a bottle from his bedside drawer and handed it to Scorpius. 'Drink this, it will help.'

It was more potion like the one he'd been given last night. Awkwardly, as his right arm wasn't moving properly, he drank a mouthful of the burning liquid. His muscles did ease a little, and he was able to dress without too many spasms running through his body.

The biggest shock, however, was when he went into the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth. He knew that his face must have looked terrible, from the beating that was given to it, but the sight that faced him, the mess of bruising, swollen patches, and split skin made him gasp despite himself. He was barely recognisable. Gingerly, he tried to wash his face and neaten his hair. It took a long time for him to get dressed and ready, as his left hand - his dominant hand - appeared to have been stamped on the night before, and had stiffened up overnight, while his right shoulder spasmed if he moved it too much.

Finally they were ready to go, and he set off with Albus and the other three, who hovered around him like a set of bodyguards. Everyone they passed stared at him, their expressions ranging from shock to confusion. It took them a while to reach the Great Hall, as Scorpius was walking much more slowly than usual.

Albus restrained himself until they'd sat down at the Slytherin Table before asking the inevitable question: 'What happened?'

It took several minutes for Scorpius, in a low voice, recount the events of the night before. By the end of it Albus' face was a mask of shock and rage. 'And you still have no idea who did it?'

'Only that they were Gryffindors. I think one was in a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey,' said Scorpius, shrugging and pushing his porridge about the bowl. He didn't feel much like eating.

'Didn't you say that you hit one of them with a Stinging Jinx?' asked Langwith, leaning across the table. Scorpius nodded. 'Well take a look at who just walked in.'

They all turned in their seats to look over at the double doors. A group of Sixth Year Gryffindors had strode in, talking and laughing together. It was a group that had frequently come into conflict with the Slytherins, due to the fact they embodied the Gryffindor characteristics that Slytherins hated. They were loud, obnoxious, and extremely arrogant. Their leader was the worst of all, a boy named Harriot McLaggen who was also the Gryffindor Keeper. He swaggered in beside his usual sidekick, a stocky boy named Connor Finnigan. As Connor turned towards the Slytherin table, they all noticed he had a large red weal across his left cheek, a mark distinctively caused by a Stinging Jinx.

The group of them - it was quite large, now that the girls had joined them - exchanged meaningful looks. Well, Scorpius tried, but he could only open one eye, so it looked a little like he was winking extremely forcefully at them all. But before they could discuss this revelation any further, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of none other than James Potter.

It was quite a while since James had ventured across the Great Hall to the Slytherin Table, and he did seem very uncomfortable as they all looked around at him, along with the next twenty Slytherins on either side. Louis and Fred were hovering behind him.

'Malfoy, I just wanted to check if you were alright after … after last night,' he said, looking very fixedly at Scorpius and Albus. 'How're you feeling?'

Scorpius shrugged, grimacing as the movement sent a spasm of pain across his shoulders. 'I'm okay.'

'Do you … do you remember the bastards who did it? Did you see?' asked James. 'Do you know … maybe what house they were?'

'They were Gryffindors,' said Scorpius firmly. 'I saw a Gryffindor Quidditch team jersey.'

A small line appeared in James' brow, and it deepened to a frown as Albus said:

'Yes, and we just saw McLaggen with his little gang, and that one Finnigan had a red mark on his face, exactly the same as the mark from a Stinging Hex, and that's what Scorpius hit one of his attackers with!' said Albus, turning around in his seat to face his brother properly. 'Look, James, you should speak to them, it's almost certainly them who attacked Scorpius!'

'Me? i'm not accusing one of my teammates on purely circumstantial evidence, Albus, you need to get a grip,' said James.

'Oh, really? I need to get a grip, do I? And what about you - you're all ready to mete out some justice, that is until it turns out it was one of your precious Quidditch players who did it,' snapped Albus. He had his arms crossed, and as the two brothers glared at each other Scorpius noticed how similar they both looked all of a sudden.

'Wait - both of you, stop,' he said, forcing himself to speak loudly despite the pain to get their attention. 'James, I am almost certain that I saw one of the attackers was wearing a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey, but Albus that isn't a smoking cauldron and I can see why James doesn't want to start pointing fingers.'

'Stop making excuses, Scorpius,' said Albus, 'James is just being biased towards his own house, like he always is.'

'And you're always jumping to blame Gryffindor for whatever goes wrong in your little lives!' yelled James.

'Whatever goes wrong? Scorpius is sat there with a pound of mince for a face!' retorted Albus, just as loud.

'Fine, Albus, if you're wanting something to be done, go speak to Professor Flint or Longbottom about it.'

'We're not snitches!' snapped Albus.

'You can't get any proper evidence until you do, so if you're not ready for that just shut up and take your heads out your arses! You're pathetic!'

'You're a coward!'

James had turned to leave, but at Albus' words he spun on his heel and marched back to stand over him, fists raised to his brother's chin. His words were low and trembling with anger. 'Don't you dare call me that, Albus.'

As Fred and Louis dragged James away, Albus turned back around to face the others. He was shaking so badly he couldn't keep his breakfast on his fork, and gave up after a few seconds. No one spoke for the rest of breakfast, and when the bell rang for lessons Scorpius was the first to leave, and was halfway out of the hall before Albus had even stood.

Scorpius still couldn't move very fast, but it still took Albus three passageways and two staircases to catch up with him. 'Scorpius! Scorpius, wait! What's going on?'

'Oh, shut _up_ Albus!'

Albus stared at his friend, who was glaring at him out of his one good eye. He was at a complete loss as to what to say. He understood how he'd made his brother angry, and that had been deliberate, but why was Scorpius now looking as if he'd just pissed in his potion?

'What did I do?' he asked, trying not to sound whiny and worrying that he failed.

Scorpius stopped so suddenly that Albus tripped over his robes. 'You don't understand, Albus. You can't understand how I'm feeling right now. You've got your whole life sorted.'

'Have i?' Albus' mind raced through his numerous flaws and scenes of social stupidity.

'Yes! Your family is hugely respected - your parents are fucking heroes! And you moan about how no one likes you and you can't get girls, but let's be real, that's all your own doing. You can't even imagine how I feel at the moment,' said Scorpius.

'Then tell me how you feel,' said Albus quietly.

'I feel humiliated, Albus. My father has been accused of gross misdemeanours in his businesses and might very possibly go to jail, it's all over the press so everyone is talking about it like it's the latest gossip, everyone in the school thinks I'm just the spoilt son of a criminal, and now I've been beaten up and everyone can see it,' said Scorpius, his voice cracking slightly. 'I don't need you fighting my battles as well - battles that I don't even want to be fought. James and the others carried me back last night when they could've just left me, at massive risk to themselves, and he comes over to just check if I'm alright and _you_ start having a go at him! I know he's your brother and you have some stupid complex, but just for once, couldn't you not make it about yourself?'

He hoisted his schoolbag more securely onto his shoulder, hid a wince at the movement, and headed off down the corridor. Albus let him leave him behind, only catching up at the door to the Potions classroom. He took his usual seat beside Scorpius, and as they pulled out their books and built the fires beneath their cauldrons, he leant across and said quietly enough that Zabini on the other side wouldn't hear: 'I'm sorry.'

Scorpius didn't reply, but nodded slightly, and a few minutes later helped Albus reposition his wood so it would light properly.

Professor Flint gave them all a short lecture on the new topic - emotional potions - and then set them off on their first task, brewing a Sentimentality Draught. It was a fairly long and convoluted recipe, but had few particularly fiddly parts, and most of the Sixth Years had soon set off happily into their potion-making.

As soon as the whole class seemed busy, Flint strode down the central aisle and stopped in front of Scorpius' desk. He was a big man turning steadily to fat, with a fleshy face and large, meaty hands, which he rested on either side of Scorpius' cauldron. His small, narrow eyes traced over the numerous cuts and bruises on Scorpius' face, and the fact he was having to do all his potion-making right-handed. His left hand was still swollen and barely moveable.

'Now, Malfoy, you're looking rather different to how you were yesterday,' said Flint in a slow, quiet voice.

'Yes, sir,' said Scorpius, still trying to cut his dried Bungboon Beans.

'Care to tell me what happened?'

'Fell off my broom, sir,' said Scorpius.

'Oh, really? Because I've already seen Captain Bowles, and he said that you flew very well yesterday, and certainly neither Bludgers nor the ground hit you with enough force to make you look like a troll's recent victim.'

'It was after practice, sir. Hit … the stands,' said Scorpius, a slight flush appearing in the small patches of skin that were not blue or purple.

'Of course. Not thinking it through, were you?' Flint leant forward, so that his large head was at risk of being engulfed in Scorpius' fumes. 'Malfoy, I understand that you do not wish to be a grass, but let me say that whoever did this should face consequences, and it should be me or another teacher who handles that. If I catch you or any of your friends acting on some sort of vengeance mission, I will treat you as harshly as I will treat the person who attacked you. Understand?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Fine. And Potter, help Malfoy with his ingredients before I set fire to it all, I can't stand to watch him struggle so pathetically. For Merlin's sake, boy, at least get Madame Longbottom to fix you up.'

He strode away, his robes billowing around his bulky body.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Vengeance was meted out against the Slytherins, once Scorpius had dredged enough memories of the night out of his head and the others had done some investigation and pieced together evidence to confirm that it was indeed McLaggen and his gang who had done the attack. Scorpius' own broomstick had luckily been left behind by the group, and he and Albus had found it, untouched, the next day. But this had given them an idea, and with some coercion of Lily, they found themselves in possession of McLaggen's Comet 720 and several other prized objects of his gang.

'It is a bit low to break a man's broomstick,' said Scorpius, as Albus gleefully appeared in the dormitory with it a few nights later.

'We're not going to break it, idiot. We're going to send a letter to McLaggen, saying him and his gang can either do what we ask, or they can go to Longbottom and say we stole their stuff, at which point we'll say we were only borrowing it, but tell Longbottom all about what they did to you! Clever, right?' said Albus, grinning in satisfaction at his plan.

'So what are our terms?' asked Scorpius, inspecting the Comet. He decided it was shoddier than his own sleek Firebolt, hidden away carefully in his trunk.

That much quickly became clear the next day. The story spread around the school like wildfire that some mysterious curse had befallen McLaggen and his gang. None of them could communicate in anything but a variety of animal noises, and when asked to write down a reason for this malady, they could only draw a crude symbol of the animal they were imitating. McLaggen and Finnigan caused the most hilarity - they could only impersonate a pig and a duck, respectively.

'We stuck some of my Uncle's prototype joke sweets into the envelope,' explained Albus, when he and Scorpius were accosted by curious friends and peers. He was unable to keep a pleased grin from his face. especially when the crowd burst into appreciative laughter.

A bell rang and students began to drift off in different directions towards lessons or the Library, and as the crowd dissipated, both Scorpius and Albus suddenly saw that James was stood nearby, looking very awkward. Albus didn't need the nudge that Scorpius gave him. Despite his reluctance, he went over to his brother.

'Hey,' he said, just as sheepish and uncomfortable. 'Look … er … I, I guess I'm sorry. About the other day. At breakfast. I shouldn't have gone off like that, you helped Scorpius so much and I … it was wrong to have a go.'

'It's okay,' said James, shuffling slightly from foot to foot.

'And … well, thanks. For helping.'

'It's okay.'

'Right … well…'

'Albus, I'm sorry too,' said James. 'I came over to say that. I think I was a little biased, and I let myself ignore the truth that was in front of me.'

Albus stared at his brother, who was staring very hard at the opposite wall. 'I asked McLaggen and Finnigan about what happened. McLaggen confessed it all. He seemed … he seemed to think I'd be happy about it, that I'd clap him on the back and think that it was all very heroic. Told me all the gory details.'

'What did you do?' asked Albus.

James shrugged. 'He's off the team. I can't do anything about Finnigan or the others, not if Scorpius doesn't want to hand them in, but I'm making sure that McLaggen won't play while I'm Captain, and I'll try my hardest to ruin their popularity, too.'

'Won't that hurt your chances for the game against Slytherin?'

'It doesn't matter. At least not as much.'

Albus couldn't help but smile at his brother, who was still looking very proud and defiant. He didn't think he'd ever heard James say that Quidditch was less important than anything. 'Thanks, James. I'd better get to Ancient Runes but … I'll see you around.' He began to walk away, towards Scorpius waiting by the nearest staircase.

'Albus!' James called, and he turned back towards him. 'You don't think … you don't think that all Gryffindors are like McLaggen, do you?'

He paused a few seconds before replying. 'No, James. I don't.'

Later that day, Albus had to go to the Library, as the translation he'd been set for Ancient Runes contained certain rare hieroglyphs, and the books in the smaller Slytherin collection didn't hold the answers. As ever, the school Library was frustratingly noisy, despite the constant patrolling of the Librarian. He had to venture into the furthest bookshelves and tuck himself away in the section on Magical Water Fungi in order to escape the incessant whispering of the other students.

He was midway through the translation, his brain furiously attempting to fit together the meaning of the strange little squiggles sketched into a pentagon on the parchment, when a movement in the corner of his eye made him look up. Katie Blossom was stood a few feet away, hugging a stack of books against her chest, a shy smile on his face.

Trying to look as if he was not intensely annoyed at having to stop translating, he closed his book and stood up, smiling at her. 'Hey, Katie! How's it going?' he asked. He was surprised that his voice was so casual and easy-going.

'Hiya Albus,' she said, stepping towards him. 'I was just wondering how you were. It's been a few days … since we spoke.'

'Right, yeah, sorry. I've been a bit preoccupied,' he said, not wanting to say "with Scorpius", but implying that as hard as he could. She seemed to get the message, and nodded, her plaits bouncing.

'Oh, of course, I totally get that. And if you don't want to hang out, that's fine. I was just wondering, if you were free tomorrow night, if you wanted to … hang out?'

'Yeah I think I'm free,' said Albus, unsure whether he should offer some sort of entertainment to occupy them. It was a Wednesday night, they couldn't go to Hogsmeade, and it was a bit early on for them to be hanging out in each other's houses. To be frankly honest, he wasn't really sure what was going on with him and Katie. They'd gone on a date to Hogsmeade, they'd eaten a few meals in each other's company, but they'd rarely been alone and hadn't done anything more than kiss each other on the cheek. Were they an item yet? She certainly seemed to want that. Maybe he should make a move…

'Okay, great!'

'So … let's meet up? We can work out something to do,' he said, smiling at her and then worrying that he was grinning in a freakishly enthusiastic way. To try and cover this, he made a complete leap of faith, and stepped forward and kissed her on the lips. It wasn't some rom-com, fireworks and music kiss, but as soon as he stepped away Katie flushed bright red right to her hairline.

'I'll see you around,' she gasped, and she virtually ran off, schoolbag swinging wildly.

Albus watched her go, and then checked the time, and swore. Forget finishing his translation - he would soon be late for a session with Professor Chang. Stuffing his books into his messenger bag, he hurried out of the Library almost as quickly as Katie had. He hurried through the school so fast that he was still out of breath when he opened her study door.

She was sat quite serenely behind her desk, her head slightly bent as she wrote some notes on a parchment. A fire was burning merrily, and it cast golden tones on her long dark hair, which fell loosely about her face and shoulders.

As he paused in the doorway, she looked up from her writing, and smiled at him. 'Albus! Come and sit down.' Closing the door behind him, he went over and sat down in his usual seat beside her. As before, she was suddenly very close, and their legs brushed as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

He couldn't help wishing that she didn't have to be quite so attractive, as he attempted to listen to her explanation of non-verbal technique regarding spells to cast lights, which they were now moving onto. His mind couldn't seem to focus; it kept wandering off to think about other things, things that he'd have given a year's allowance to not have to say out loud.

'So, shall we give it a go?' he heard her saying in her light, musical voice. Gulping slightly, he tried to steady himself and pulled out his wand, saying _lumos!_ in his head.

He managed to cast a light after a few seconds, but it wasn't the steady, bright glow that he usually had. The light flickered, sometimes so dim you could hardly see it, and then flashing blindingly. Again, he wondered if it was because of his struggle to concentrate.

'Are you alright, Albus?' she asked softly, and he forced himself to look her in the eyes. They were very dark, with unusually thick lashes.

'Um … struggling to focus,' he stuttered, hating himself for turning into such a mess.

'That's quite alright,' she said, smiling gently. Her hand moved to rest lightly on his thigh, and he couldn't help but jump slightly as it did. 'I hope you don't mind me saying, Albus, that you do look very like your father did when he was your age.'

The kiss came so suddenly that Albus didn't even have time to think how strange what she said was, his mind was unable to think of anything but how good it felt to have her lips against his, how warm and soft she was, the gloriously enticing perfume she wore. He was kissing her too, now, leaning towards her, his hands now reaching tentatively to touch her side and back as her own hands pressed against his thigh and chest.

A sudden crash from the floor above made them both spring apart, and Albus' mind instantly went from empty to a chaotic mess. He was unable to do anything but choke out: 'I've … got to go,' and hurry from the classroom.

The whole journey back to the dungeons, he was praying that he didn't see anyone. He wasn't sure if he could manage to speak to someone without blurting out what had just happened, and that would be disastrous. He just had to get to Scorpius before anyone else.

He was glad at that moment that he wasn't a particularly popular or sought-after student, as no one called out to stop him as he rushed through the Slytherin Common Room, and up the spiral staircase to his dormitory. And, thankfully, he found that the dormitory was entirely empty except for Scorpius, who was in the armchair, a letter in his hand.

'Scorpius! Scorpius! You won't believe what just -'

But he stopped short at the look on Scorpius' face. 'What's…?'

'I just got this from my mother,' said Scorpius quietly, holding up the letter. 'It's about my father. He's going up in front of the full Wizengamot. And I'm going to see him tomorrow.'

In the weak light of dawn, Azkaban rose as a gigantic obelisk, iron against a grey sky, and it seemed the only solid thing in the shifting waves and roaring winds. Scorpius let go of the Portkey as soon as his feet hit the ground, and stepped away from his mother and the two Ministry representatives who had accompanied them. His feet steady, he stepped across the jagged, rain-soaked rocks, craning his head to look up at the tower. A few dozen pinpricks of light could be seen in the narrow slit windows. He wondered if any of them were his father's.

'Mr Malfoy?'

It took him a moment to realise that he was being addressed. A short wizard with thinning hair had followed him; he felt a twinge of intense annoyance. 'Yes?'

'We need to go inside, now. Please, with me.'

His mother was already stepping through the heavy door, her head bowed against the weather. Scorpius gave the tower and the surrounding sea a final glance, before heading into the building. The short wizard followed him, and the door swung shut behind them with a solid _thud_ , enclosing them in the chill darkness.

No Dementors had been inside Azkaban for more than two decades, but the atmosphere of all-consuming cold and lifelessness still hung over the prison. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the hush as they were led along stone passageways and up smooth steps, past countless black doors that were identical but for the numbers stamped onto them. Scorpius counted his steps, staring at the narrow back of his mother in front of him. It was three-hundred-and-seventy-three steps to his father's cell.

They could go into the cell one at a time, according to the dead-eyed guard who led them. He had a face so blank that Scorpius forgot what it looked like almost as soon as he looked away. It was a face fit for a purpose, for immovable and merciless authoritarianism.

He waited outside, on a little stone bench built into the wall, with the two Ministry representatives. None of them spoke. They'd had to leave their wands back at the Ministry - no magical tools of any kind were allowed inside Azkaban - and without them the representatives seemed fidgety, uncomfortable. One kept twiddling his thumbs, five times one way and three back the other. Scorpius watched it until he felt dizzy, when he focussed on the blank wall opposite instead.

After perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, his mother knocked on the door, and the prison guard let her out. She looked entirely composed, not even a hair or an inch of her robes out of place. As she passed Scorpius, she reached out to lightly touch his arm, her one hint of emotion, and then he was walking into the cell.

It was darker than the passageway outside, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The room was perhaps ten foot long, and so narrow that if he'd stretched out his arms, his fingertips would brush the walls on both sides. There was a window, no more than a slit in the wall a palm's-width wide, which cast a narrow beam of light on the floor. A table with a small stack of books was squeezed in with a stool beneath it, and pressed against the wall on the left was a narrow bunk, on which sat Scorpius' father.

He'd last seen his father only a few weeks earlier, the day that he'd left for Hogwarts, but the man sat hunched on the bedclothes was almost unrecognisable. His father had been a stern, powerful man, exuding vitality and intellect. But Draco Malfoy had physically shrunk, his body sinking into itself, and he'd aged a decade. His hair, formerly sleek and silver, now hung in lank grey strands about his narrow face. But as Scorpius looked down at him, his father looked up, and something like a smile broke across the ravaged face.

'Scorpius.'

'Father.'

'They told me you were coming. I must say, I couldn't quite believe it. i thought, perhaps, that you wouldn't want to see me. After everything that has been in the papers, you can't be very proud of me as a father.'

Scorpius sat down on the hard three-legged stool, facing his father. 'It's alright, Father. I have to confess … I already knew, really.'

'How much did you know?' his father asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

'Not a lot. I heard the odd snippet and pieced it together, that's all. No more than … than what's now been published. But I wish you'd just told me, father.'

'I was trying to protect you, Scorpius. Strange as it now seems. The less you know, the better. They'll want you to testify, you know that right. You're not seventeen, they need mine and your mother's consent, but they'll want you to. It's up to you, Scorpius.'

'I'll do it, I'll do anything, Father. I … I don't want you in jail. I wish there was some way I could help, could get you out of here.'

His father reached out, and cupped Scorpius' cheek. His skin felt cold to Scorpius, slightly clammy. He suppressed a shiver. 'You don't need to do anything, Scorpius. I … I may be in jail, for a while. McKinley is putting together a good defence, but it's a tough case. And more will come out about me, they'll try and bring me down in every way they can. It's too much to ask, but I need you to remain strong, Scorpius. To be the man of the family, as I couldn't be. Your mother needs you.'

'Yes, father.'

'I'm sorry this has happened, Scorpius. You know, I did it all for us, for our family, to give you the life I thought you deserved. It wasn't for greed. Please, remember that about me.'

'Father, I'll see you again, won't I? And soon?' asked Scorpius, suddenly worried by the tone in his father's voice. His father only smiled again, and leant forward to kiss his forehead.

'Of course. Go back to your mother now, Scorpius. Don't worry about me, just focus on your studies. I'll be alright.'

Scorpius paused in the doorway of the cell, looking back at his father for the second before the door slammed shut between them, and he was faced with blank grey instead. All the way back to the Portkey and through the Ministry the short representative spoke incessantly about nothing in particular, but Scorpius managed to ignore it, turn it into nothing more than a vague whine in his ear. He could've been a zombie, just going through the motions of signing documents, nodding at the questions directed at him, giving his mother the cursory hug and stepping into a fireplace to travel back to Hogwarts.

As it was a Saturday he'd been dreading a busy Common Room, but to his surprise it was deserted but for a scattering of First and Second Years. It took him a moment to remember that it was a Hogsmeade weekend, and as it was hardly midday, everyone would still be down at the village.

Although the idea of dealing with crowds of students was unappealing, he suddenly wanted nothing more than a long walk, and so he set off immediately through the castle and then down the track towards Hogsmeade. It felt good to stretch his legs, to feel fresh air after the damp cold of Azkaban, with the pale sun warming his face. The image of his father, huddled on his narrow bed, kept spinning round and round his mind, and he needed the distraction of shops and Butterbeer, and Albus. Anyway, he was in dire need of a new quill and some parchment.

He could see from a distance that the village was busy, the gaggles of students moving in dark swirls along the cobbled streets, but since the beating a few nights before the school seemed to have unanimously decided to just ignore him, so the crowds didn't bother him. Pulling his scarf closer about his face anyway, he ducked his head and hurried through the gates onto the Hogsmeade high street, keeping his gaze and making sure not to catch anyone's eye.

Without thinking much about it, he headed towards the Three Broomsticks. He needed the feeling of Butterbeer warm inside him, driving out the chill that had settled on his chest and stomach. But as he reached the pub, he found a large throng of people huddled outside it, speaking in low, rough voices and blocking his way. As he tried to make his way through them he realised two things at the same time - that they were all much older than Hogwarts students, and that every single one had a camera or notepad in their hands.

But at the same second, they'd all looked around at him, and the air seemed to explode with noise. A dozen cameras flashed at once, blinding him, and as he attempted to stumble backwards they closed in around him, blocking his escape. As the cameras continued to click and flash, the questions were shot at him so fast he could hardly register them, questions about his father, his mother, their family history, his own worries and concerns, if he could still love his father during all this…

As the panic rose up inside him and he wondered if he'd vomit, he suddenly found the figures in front of him parting, and then a girl with red hair was grasping his wrist and dragging him inside the pub, the door swinging shut behind them and cutting off the noise of the reporters. He stood trying to breathe deeply in the hot and steamy pub, and to his humiliation found tears pricking his eyes.

It was Rose Weasley who'd saved him, of course, and she was still looking at him with a concerned expression, and the kindly woman who ran the pub was giving him a pint of Butterbeer and saying it was on the house, after the shock he'd just had. He vaguely noticed Rose Weasley's beige boyfriend watching the whole scene and looking very confused and perturbed by it all.

'Scorpius! Are you alright?'

He nodded, trying to stay steady as he drank a gulp of Butterbeer.

'I'm fine.'

'Hey - Scorpius? What're you doing here? I thought you'd be out all day.'

Albus had appeared, a half-empty glass of blackcurrant cider still in his hand. Scorpius shook his head, still focussing on sipping the Butterbeer, and Rose quickly explained what had happened. He appreciated that - he didn't want to go back over it all. It would be hard enough to tell Albus about the actual visit, without bringing the virtual assault dealt by the reporters into it.

'There's a back door, dears,' said the landlady, 'just this way. You can head out without anyone knowing.'

'Thanks,' said Albus, handing her a few Sickles. 'Can I have another to go? Are you coming, Rose?'

She shook her head. 'I'm staying here with Daniel for a bit. Get back safe.'

They hurried out through the backdoor, slipping down a side road out of the village and then cutting across some grass to reach the road back to the castle. Neither of them spoke until the village was the size of a thumbprint behind them, when Albus turned to Scorpius. He didn't say much about the visit, mainly sticking to describing Azkaban itself, and it was a testament to their friendship that Albus didn't pry any further into the actual conversation he'd had with his father.

'Have they set a trial date yet?' Albus asked, as they rounded a corner and the castle loomed into sight.

'November 5th,' said Scorpius. 'I think I've got to testify.'

'Are you sure?'

'I can help my father's case, I think. I want to do it.'

They fell silent for a while, until they were nearly at the castle, when Scorpius glanced at Albus. 'What were you in Hogsmeade for? You didn't seem to be with anyone.'

'Oh, right,' said Albus, looking sheepish all of a sudden. 'I was with Katie, actually. She left just before you arrived.'

'I didn't know you were actually into her.'

'I'm … not. She left because I ended it with her. Or at least, I tried. I'm not sure if she entirely got what I was saying. She just got really upset and marched out.'

'Damn,' said Scorpius, shaking his head. 'Do you really dislike her that much? She is pretty, definitely at the top end of Hogwarts girls.'

'Yeah, I know.'

'You're probably lucky to catch her, to be honest, being such a specky awkward git as you are.'

Albus glanced at his friend, considering whether to tell Scorpius about the situation with Professor Chang. But Scorpius had so many problems and secrets in his life already, he didn't want to load extra onto his shoulders. And he'd have to put Scorpius in a position of not telling, and so abetting him, or betraying him to the teachers; it was a situation that Scorpius was already having to deal with. So he just shrugged, and changed the subject.

He had to deal with a berating from Rose, of course, and then the icy glares that she and her girl gang sent him whenever they passed in the corridor, and Katie's tearful gazes. He didn't see what the big fuss was about, really; he could count on one hand the number of times he'd been alone with Katie, and in none of them had they done any more than kiss, but it was being treated like he'd used and abused her. The truth was that he'd done the exact opposite by ending it with her.

He didn't come close to Professor Chang over the weekend, only catching glimpses of her at the other end of a corridor or up at the teacher's table in the Great Hall. At mealtimes, he kept feeling as if her gaze was on him, but whenever he looked around she was deep in conversation with another teacher. It wasn't until the Charms lesson on Monday that they were near each other again.

As he approached the Charms classroom, he couldn't help feeling an odd mix of trepidation and extreme excitement, that made his insides do somersaults against his diaphragm. It took a lot to maintain a normal conversation with Scorpius and the other Slytherins, and he hoped no one noticed how red he turned when she walked into the room.

It was a relatively simple lesson, just a revision of the topic they'd been learning - complicated liquid modulation - and although Albus was able to do all the spells non-verbally for the first time, he was so distracted that the spells he was doing went wildly out of control. But even when he shot an intense jet of cold water straight into the back of Zelda St John's head, Professor Chang seemed busy with other students and didn't notice. Albus ignored Zelda's glares and resolved to stay behind at the end of the lesson. He had to at least speak to Professor Chang, and he certainly couldn't do it in a full classroom.

So, when the bell rang for break, Albus made some excuse to the others about having a question about the homework, and stayed fiddling with a catch on his bag until everyone else had filed out of the room. They all seemed to take a frustratingly long time about it, jostling and joking and laughing about their antics from the weekend.

Professor Chang was magically wiping the chalk diagrams and notes off of the blackboard, and only looked around when the door swung shut behind the last student. Albus was still stood by his desk, one hand loosely holding his schoolbag, and he met her gaze with his own wide-eyed stare. She couldn't help the small smile that played about her mouth, he was just so endearingly awkward.

'Albus … this is silly, you're going to be late to lunch,' she said, beginning to gather up her own books.

'I'm not hungry,' he said, gaining confidence and moving towards her desk. 'I … I wanted to say sorry, for running out the other night. It was rude.'

'It's alright, Albus, you have nothing to apologise for,' she said. There was only the desk between them now, and her hands shook slightly as she attempted to continue tidying, knocking an ink bottle off the desk. He caught it with surprising grace and ease, and held it out to her, looking straight at her as he did. His eyes were extraordinarily green.

'Let me help,' he murmured, moving around the desk and beginning to deftly sort her things, tidying her marking into a neat pile. She reached out to stop him, resting her hand on his. They were very close now, their shoulders brushing, and he could smell her heady perfume again. He twisted his hand to hold hers and, leaning forward, gently kissed her lips.

The kiss was more intense than the one before, more hurried and desperate, her lips seemingly clinging to his as her hands found his body and pulled him against her, his own hands groping clumsily for her arse and breasts. They were soft and inviting, and she moaned as he squeezed and massaged them. He didn't realise how much he'd been aching for this, hadn't noticed how he'd been quietly daydreaming about touching her since their last kiss.

Her hands were under his robes now, pulling at his shirt and sliding down the back of his trousers to squeeze his arse as he pushed her onto the desk and stood pressing against her, her thighs around his waist. His erection was making his school trousers uncomfortably tight, and it didn't help that it was rubbing against her through the material.

His lips moved to her neck, attacking the soft skin of her throat and eliciting more moans from her. 'Albus … Albus wait,' she murmured. 'Albus, this isn't safe. We shouldn't…'

He drew away slightly. 'We shouldn't.'

'No … no, I mean, we shouldn't do this _now_. We need more privacy,' she gasped. Her cheeks were very flushed, and her chest was heaving as she attempted to speak steadily. 'We need to wait … until tomorrow night.'

He nodded, understanding, and stepped away from her. They had another tutoring session tomorrow night. Suddenly, a day seemed like years, but he nodded and picked up the schoolbag that he'd dropped on the floor. 'I'll see you tomorrow night, then.'

Everyone else was already settled into lunch, and as Adelaide Gray was midway through a funny story about some Hufflepuff's mishap in Transfiguration, Albus was able to slip in among them without much attention. He just hoped no one would notice the fact that he was still nursing a semi.

Scorpius did glance at him, as he attempted to nonchalantly pull a platter of chicken breasts towards him, but didn't say anything.

Across the Great Hall, Rose had noticed Albus' late entry, but she supposed that he'd just been off causing trouble, or winding up some Gryffindors, or whatever else Slytherins did in their spare time. She didn't mention it, of course; Albus' name was fairly taboo among her friends since his breakup with Katie. Privately, she thought that her friend was overreacting, as Albus hadn't even gone on half a dozen dates with Katie, but she decided not to mention her opinions. It was going against the rules of friendship to side with a boy who'd done wrong, even if that boy was her cousin.

Daniel appeared a few minutes later to distract her, anyway. He was looking particularly handsome, his hair and uniform all tousled and his face flushed from a busy hour attempting to train a young bicorn. He squeezed onto the bench beside her and gave her a quick kiss, before insisting on showing her a long graze that he'd received after annoying the bicorn.

They were interrupted by a slight diversion in the form of Lily, who attempted to walk past without Rose noticing her extremely dishevelled appearance or the large bruise beginning to bloom on her cheek. Rose noticed, of course, and shot out a hand to catch Lily's arm.

'Stop. Come back.'

'Rose, I'm hungry!' whined Lily, trying to pull free.

'I don't care,' said Rose, holding fast. 'What's happened to you?'

Lily huffed loudly, her face turning a bright red that only highlighted the bruise. 'It's nothing, okay, I just had a rough Care of Magical Creatures lesson!'

'I know that's a lie, because Daniel just had his Care of Magical Creatures lesson. So what's wrong with you? You've been fighting again, haven't you!'

Lily didn't reply, only bit her lip.

'Lily! What've we told you about that?'

'That if I carry on getting into trouble like that, you'll have to write to my Mum and Dad,' sighed Lily. 'Whatever. Big deal. I don't care.'

'Well I do care. Your brothers may not notice that you're acting out, but I do. What was the reason for it this time?'

'This Ravenclaw boy, he was saying that all Gryffindors are stupid and can't control themselves!'

'And you responded by …'

'By throwing a trowel at him.'

'And how did you get the bruise?'

'He tripped me up and I hit the table.'

'Didn't Professor Longbottom do anything?' she asked. 'I'm guessing this was in Herbology.'

She nodded. 'He'd left the greenhouse, had to remove the Biting Begonias after they attacked Mamie Killnock's plaits.'

'Right,' sighed Rose, noticing that her friends were all trying to hide their laughter. 'As a Prefect, I'm putting you in detention. Meet me this evening in the Library and I'll supervise while you write some lines. And you can't keep doing this, understand?'

'Yes, Rose.'

She thought that she saw an ironic smile on her younger cousin's face, as she flipped her hair back and strode off, but decided to ignore that and went back to her lunch and Daniel. Still, as the bells rang for lessons, she made a beeline for Albus, catching James on his way and forcing the two boys to stop in a corner of the Entrance Hall.

'Rose, seriously, I've said sorry to Katie, just let it go!' snapped Albus, batting her wand hand away from him.

'Oh get over yourself, Albus. And James, if you want to keep looking as pretty as you do, stay where you are. I'm here about Lily,' said Rose, still brandishing her wand. The two boys exchanged a look. Their cousin was extremely intimidating when she wanted to be.

'What about Lily?' asked James.

'You two need to keep more of an eye on her!' exclaimed Rose. 'I just had to put her in detention because I found out she'd been fighting another boy. It's your job to make sure she's toeing the line and everything.'

'Calm down, Rose,' sighed James, giving her a maddeningly patronising smile. 'She's fourteen! Of course she's going to be acting out. I mean, you must know it already from your own experience, although you _aren't_ exactly rebellious. But Hugo must be causing trouble too.'

'Not really,' she said, continuing to glare at him. 'He's more just entirely silent, and moody when he is forced to speak.'

'Right, fair enough, but Lily's just going through a phase. I don't think it's anything to worry about,' said James. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. 'And now, if you don't mind, I need to get to Defence Against the Dark Arts. See you around, and get those knickers untwisted Rose.'

As he strolled off, Rose turned on Albus, who looked as though he hadn't been entirely paying attention. 'Sorry, Rose, but I agree with James. She's not exactly off the rails, and I've got enough on my plate at the moment. Are you coming to Magical Languages?'

'You go ahead, I'll catch you up,' sighed Rose. She was too annoyed and exasperated with him to make casual conversation, and Albus didn't need telling twice. As she watched him go, she wondered idly how much he did have on his plate; he was certainly acting even more secretive and closed-off than usual. She supposed that the whole fiasco with Scorpius Malfoy's family must be a lot to deal with.

She had no clue what the real reason for Albus' secrecy was, the truth of what thoughts were occupying his thoughts, spinning and bouncing about his brain so fast he could hardly concentrate. It was lucky that Scorpius wasn't in a particularly talkative mood at that time, as the two of them could rub along in a taciturn silence, each occupied by their own thoughts.

When the next evening rolled around, Albus had to work hard to hide his eagerness to go off to tutoring with Professor Chang. He forced himself to stay until the end of dinner, listening to his friends' banal conversations and laughing along with the jokes, all the while stealing glances up to the teachers' table. She was wearing a necklace of blue stones that evening, and it brought out the rich darkness of her hair and the warmth of her tanned skin.

Finally, dinner ended and he was able to escape from the others, feigning reluctance as he bid them goodbye at the Entrance Hall and headed up the Marble Staircase, hardly bothering to check his speed. The brackets on the walls flashed past him as he strode down passageways and skipped up the stairs, finally skidding to a halt outside the now-so-familiar oaken door. He paused for a few seconds, making sure that his breaths were steady, and as there was nothing he could do about his racing heartbeat, he raised his fist and knocked on the door.

'Come in.'

She was stood by the fireplace, her fingers deftly pulling pins from her hair so that it fell from its neat bun into a glossy sheet that cascaded down her back. She glanced over her shoulder at him as he stepped inside, her eyes wide and inviting, her fingers threading through the silken strands. He automatically closed the door behind him, tapping the handle with his wand so it could only be opened from inside.

That evening, they didn't even pretend to be there for tutoring. She grabbed his hand, and he pulled her to him to kiss her on her plump lips. She ran her hands through his tousled hair, and then took his hands again and led him across the room to a small, plain door in the corner, which he hadn't taken much notice of. He figured that it was just a cupboard or storeroom of some kind, but instead when she opened the door he found himself in a small, neat bedroom, with a bed on the opposite wall and a set of armchairs and a sofa placed around a fireplace.

Before he had much of a chance to look, she kissed him again, cupping his face in her hands. As ever, he loved how experienced she was, how she seemed to know exactly what to do with her lips and tongue. The thought of what she'd be able to do if they were in bed together made him stiffen immediately, and he instinctively pulled his body away from her slightly, embarrassed at the idea that she'd notice. But she just slid a hand down his torso, and slipped it into his robes to grasp his hardened cock through his trousers.

Perhaps an hour later, Albus was lying in the tangled, damp sheets of her bed, sprawled quite comfortably with one arm beneath his head, the other reaching out to put around her. They lay in silence, both musing over their recent lovemaking. After a while, she got up without a word, and pulled a silken dressing gown around her, tying the sash securely around her waist. He watched her as she quietly walked about the room, beginning to go about her toilet.

'Why don't you come back?' he asked after a while, with a lazy smile. She didn't reply at once, but instead tidied some of the items on her vanity table, sorting her jewellery and the little pots of makeup.

'You should probably go back to your Common Room,' she said finally. 'It's getting late, people will notice you're gone.'

'It's hardly nine,' he replied, but he sat up anyway and climbed out of bed, stretching.

'Oh, put some clothes on!' she snapped, and he stared at her in surprise. Only a few minutes ago she'd been moaning in pleasure, now it was as if he was a naughty child. She sighed, and put a hand over her eyes. 'I'm sorry, Albus. I don't mean to be like that it's just … just that I don't think I'm doing the right thing.'

He was confused. How come she wanted to have this conversation all of a sudden, and if it had to be had, why then? 'Why do you say that?' he asked, trying to sound concerned and understanding.

'I shouldn't be doing this. Not with you - you're my student! It's … it's wrong. This shouldn't have happened.'

Albus was midway through pulling on his clothes at this point. Wearing just his boxers and an unbuttoned shirt, he crossed the room and took her by the arm, pulling her against him to kiss her. She was soft and inviting, and he wanted nothing more than to carry her back to bed with him. 'We're not doing anything wrong,' he said. 'Nothing that feels this good could be this wrong.'

She nodded, and rested her head against his chest. 'Alright. But you should still go.'

After that their secret trysts happened with surprising regularity. The tutoring sessions continued every Tuesday and Thursday, and of course they did no Charms tutoring whatsoever in them, and Albus even began acting up in Charms lessons, in order to give Professor Chang - although she was Cho to him now - an excuse to put him in detention with her.

He found it surprisingly easy to keep it a secret, too. Scorpius was entirely occupied in his own problems, and it was a significant asset of their other friends that they weren't particularly prying or nosy. There was a clear reason for Albus to be going to Professor Chang's office several times a week, and he gave no reason for them to suspect that anything else was going on.

And so it was without drama that the days slipped by, and October became November. There was so little drama, in fact, that no one predicted quite what an eventful month November would turn out to be.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The morning of the first Quidditch match of the season between Gryffindor and Slytherin dawned grey and cold, a light drizzle dampening everyone's heads and necks as they hurried down to the pitch from the grounds. As Scorpius was playing in the match and so already gone when Albus left the Great Hall, he walked with Langwith and Zabini. Fitzroy, being the Slytherin Seeker, was also absent.

It was a while since Albus had spent any great length of time with either Langwith or Zabini, and he felt a twinge of sheepishness as the three boys set off down the lawn. Neither of his companions mentioned his recent absence - like everyone else, they presumed his time was taken up with making sure that Scorpius was doing alright.

Things had indeed come to a head with the Malfoy family a few days ago, as the court date for Draco Malfoy was finally set for the fourteenth of November. The _Daily Prophet_ revived its sensationalism about the case at this announcement, and had written a thoroughly melodramatic piece about it. Scorpius had had to deal with several less tasteful students quoting it behind his back, or laughing over copies of the newspaper as he walked past. Still, Albus noticed he'd developed a steely resolve during the past few weeks, and had remained coolly aloof over it all.

None of them mentioned Scorpius' situation as they strolled through the chilly grounds; instead their conversation covered much lighter topics. Langwith led the talk, and he cut a quite debonair figure in his long cloak and boots, his hair freshly styled and a grey scarf thrown about his neck, his drawling voice touching over poetry, music, and the chances of the two different teams.

Zabini looked faintly bored by it all; he was occupying himself by watching the group of Fifth Years in front of them, which was mainly made up of quite pretty girls accompanied by a few slender, . Langwith was quite able to carry the conversation almost solely, and all Albus and Zabini had to do was mutter affirmations in response to the statements he made.

At the pitch they squeezed in with the other Slytherins, managing to shove some weedy Third Years out the way and get a space on the front row, where they could lean quite comfortably against the stands. Albus already felt bored by it all. His hands and face were cold, everyone was being annoyingly loud, and he still couldn't understand why there had to be such a fuss. The Gryffindors, over on the other side of the pitch, began screaming so loudly when the teams actually walked onto the pitch that he wondered if some of them might be sick.

The one interesting factor of the match was that Scorpius and Rose, both being Chasers, were directly opposing each other. That always made for an entertaining match, and the fact that Lily and James were thrown into the mix was just the icing on what was inevitably a very dramatic cake.

The two teams faced each other across the greyish grass, and from way off in the stands Albus could see the steely expression on his friend's face. Scorpius was glaring at the Gryffindor team as if he had a personal vendetta against each of them, and Albus was suddenly quite glad that he wasn't holding a Beater's bat, as he thought that it wouldn't just be Bludgers in danger of getting hit.

As it was, two rather hulking Slytherin boys held the Beaters' bats, and Albus felt a familiar twinge of worry as he saw how small Lily looked in front of them. But he knew that Lily's short stature, as ever, hid a fierce disposition paired with remarkably good aim, and that it was actually the Slytherins who should be fearing the whack of a Bludger.

After a brief talk from the referee Higgs, the two teams took to the air, fourteen crimson and emerald blurs streaking in all directions. Albus leant over the barrier, trying to watch all the action at once. It was impossible. Even as Gryffindor took possession of the Quaffle and streaked towards their goalposts, one of the Slytherin Beaters hit a Bludger straight at James who dodged it by an inch, and Lily struck the other straight at the Slytherin Keeper Bowles. Bowles dodged the Bludger but let in the Quaffle in doing so, and a cheer erupted from the scarlet-and-gold area of the stands.

'Potter has put a good side together this year,' admitted Zabini, as the Gryffindor Chasers performed a victory lap.

'Still, Fitzroy's good when he actually focusses, and our Chasers are usually excellent,' said Langwith. 'They just need to kick into gear.'

And Albus had to agree. Each of the Slytherin players had a lot of skill, but they were too disorganised, disparate, and Scorpius was in fact the worst. He seemed to be acting as a complete maverick, which was fine in a Seeker but as he was a Chaser he was supposed to work in a team with the other two. But he kept grabbing the Quaffle and randomly streaking off across the pitch with no protection or backup, meaning he inevitably missed easy opportunities. And as the match progressed, he got more and more wild and even violent.

'WHISTLE BLOWN AS CHASER MALFOY ENTERS ALTERCATION WITH THE GRYFFINDOR KEEPER GOODWIN, HIGGS IS ABOUT TO AWARD - YES, ITS A PENALTY FOR GRYFFINDOR, CONROY TAKES POSSESSION AND HEADS TOWARDS THE GRYFFINDOR GOALPOSTS,' roared the commentator. 'HE SCORES! EIGHTY - THIRTY TO GRYFFINDOR, AND SLYTHERIN CAPTAIN BOWLES DOES NOT SEEM HAPPY, HE'S CLEARLY GIVING MALFOY A STERN TALKING TO…'

Across the stands, the Gryffindors were making a cacophony of cheers and jeers, and Albus watched morosely. James and Lily were always unbearable after a victory, and it was particularly bad if that victory was against Slytherin. Scorpius, having been yelled at by Bowles, streaked off towards the other two Chasers looking mulish and bad-tempered.

There was a slight diversion from Scorpius' antics, as Lily struck a Bludger at Fitzroy so hard it knocked him clean off his broom. Luckily he'd been scanning for the Snitch low to the ground, and only fell about five feet, but he looked rather dazed when he stood up again, his curls very out of place, and as he took to the air he flew in a vague diagonal line, wobbling slightly as he did.

After that the match got more and more intense and brutal. Beaters were whacking Bludgers so fast and hard that Albus was surprised any of the players could focus on anything but dodging them, and even the other ten players began to be more inclined to get rough with the opposing team.

When the Gryffindors scored their twelfth goal, Slytherin Chaser Digby took possession of the Quaffle, and started back down the pitch tailed closely by three other Chasers, with Scorpius and Conroy flying in from ahead to join the fray. A well-placed Bludger from Lily forced Digby to drop the Quaffle, and Rose snatched it up, dodging around Beater Mulberry and spinning around to head back towards the Gryffindor goalposts. A Bludger flew over her head, and out of the corner of her eye she saw another green streak headed towards her left side …

 _Crunch_. A great groan rose from the stands as Scorpius collided with Rose, who was knocked off balance and clung to her broom, the Quaffle slipping from her grasp as she did. Digby caught it, but that was pointless as Higgs blew his whistle a second later. Spinning on her broom, Rose elbowed and shoved at Scorpius, who was still flying so close she couldn't control her own path. He dodged that but refused to move out the way, forcing her towards the wooden wall of the stands. Losing her temper, she aimed a punch at him, but found they were being forced apart before she could strike him. She was annoyed by that - she'd have liked to see the look on his pretty face when she punched his lights out.

'Malfoy! Weasley! Stop!' roared Higgs. 'A penalty to _both_ teams!'

'Both?' protested James, flying in from the side to join the scene. 'Malfoy attacked my Chaser! Why do -'

'Your Chaser attempted to hit him, that's still a penalty Potter! Now, move back _all_ of you or I'll award some more penalties!' yelled Higgs, and they all flew in opposite directions, albeit with rather mutinous expressions. Rose took the penalty for Gryffindor, but she was so angry at Scorpius' actions that her aim was off, and Bowles caught it. Bowles waited until Goodwin had caught the Slytherin penalty, and then immediately called a timeout.

Scorpius knew he was in trouble. His feet had barely hit the soft ground when Bowles caught him by the robes and shook him.

'Have you completely lost your mind, Malfoy?' he roared, shaking him again roughly. 'What the hell do you think you're playing at?'

Scorpius didn't reply. The rest of the team were huddled a little way off, shooting furious looks at him.

'Look, I know there's shit going on in your life at the moment, but if you bring it out on the pitch again, you're off the team. Understand, Malfoy?'

As it was, there wasn't a chance for him to act out again. Hardly two minutes after the teams took to the air again, James suddenly shot into a dive, clearly in pursuit of the Snitch. He caught it easily, a dazed Fitzroy barely even noticing what was happening before it was all over. Gryffindor won, 270 points to 50. Scorpius left the pitch alone, dissonant boos and jeers following him as he went.

Albus hurried out of the stands to find him, but his friend had already disappeared. He didn't track him down, in fact, until they were back in the dormitory. Scorpius was stood before the window, stripped down to his white sports britches, and neither of them spoke for a long time. When finally they did start to make conversation, the subject of Scorpius' actions during the match was not touched upon.

In fact, the match was talked about surprisingly little across the school, due to the fact an event the next day forced all thoughts of something as petty as a sports match out of everyone's minds. As usual at breakfast the owl post arrived with a great flurry of swooping birds and dropped feathers, and several dozen _Daily Prophets_ were dropped on various students amongst the scattering of letters and parcels.

Rose reached up automatically to catch her own newspaper, and before she'd even unrolled it she saw the headline emblazoned across the front.

 **MAGICAL EXPLOSION TERRORIZES MUGGLES**

Fingers fumbling slightly with the strings, she pulled the ties apart and unrolled it, shoving her plate and mug out the way to flatten the paper on the table and read. On either side of her, her friends Katie and Bethany leant in as well.

 _A large explosion struck last night in the busy Muggle area of Piccadilly Circus, with four casualties confirmed already, and eleven more in critical care in Muggle hospitals. Unknown to the non-magical community, the Ministry for Magic has affirmed that the attack used magical means, and was certainly enacted by a witch or wizard._

 _The identity of the attacker or attackers remains unknown, as despite the almost immediate arrival of members of the Auror Office and several Hit Wizards, they seem to have instantly escaped the scene and remain at large._

 _Although the Ministry has urged the public to remain calm, it is clear that we are dealing with a highly dangerous individual or group capable of merciless and widespread attacks. Anyone with information about the incident is encouraged to come forward immediately and aid the attempt to bring these criminals to justice._

Prophet _reporters were at the scene last night, and interviewed several Ministry employees about what they had seen._

 _'It's just carnage,' said Togo, a trainee Hit Wizard. 'Never seen nothing like this, and I took down them rogue werewolves last month.'_

 _'It's going to take a lot of work to sort this mess out!' said another employee, watching a pair of paramedics (non-magical Mediwizards) attend to an injured Muggle._

 _It is undeniable that the pressure at this point falls upon Minister for Magic Granger, and the Head Auror Harry Potter, both of whom are now tasked with the responsibility of tracking down the perpetrator and bringing them to justice. Can this famous pair live up to their reputation, and take down these disgusting killers?_

Rose finished reading a little before her friends, and she looked around the Great Hall, scanning to see whether anyone else was reading the article. The rest of the school seemed entirely unconcerned about the fact that a nasty, bloody attack, of the sort that hadn't been seen since the war, had hit Muggle London just a few hours ago. They were chattering, laughing, arguing, but none looked remotely worried by anything more serious than an upcoming test.

Her friends said the usual words, about how horrific and senseless it was, and how they were sure the perpetrator would be caught soon, but soon their thoughts had also drifted off onto more trivial things. Rose folded up her newspaper, thinking that she could hardly focus on a more banal article after that one, and went back to her breakfast.

She was wrong, of course. Although the attack did not instantly catch everyone's attention, over the next few hours the news of the incident trickled through the school from the few students who did read the Prophet, and soon it was the topic of conversation on most people's lips. Wild rumours spread with it - that dozens of Muggles had been killed, instead of a handful, that St Mungo's was full of injured witches and wizards, or that a figure in a dark cloak had been spotted just before the explosion. Most of all, people were discussing whether it could possibly be anything to do with Death Eaters.

'Impossible!' exclaimed Daniel Goodwin, as a large gang of Gryffindors settled down in the Common Room to discuss it. Celebratory banners from yesterday's match still hung from the walls, but no one was thinking about that now. 'All the Death Eaters have been rounded up by now, my Dad said so!'

'Not all of them.' said Louis Weasley, brushing his red fringe out his eyes. 'My mum says that some of them are just missing and presumed dead. They could've reappeared, and be behind this!'

'But why now?' asked Connor Finnigan, frowning. 'It seems so random!'

'Maybe that's the point,' said Rose, and everyone turned to look at her. 'Maybe it's _meant_ to be random, because that makes it harder for the Ministry to track down who did it. The main question now, really, is _why_ did they do it?'

There was a silence after that, as everyone thought about what she said. All across the school, in all the Common Rooms, the Library, back rows of classrooms, the same conversations were being held, all ending on the same question. _Why_?

The entirety of the Sixth Year had been attending Apparition lessons for a few weeks already, but there seemed to be a feverish interest in that Saturday's session, which had not been felt for a while. As Bertie Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff said in a hushed voice as they all filed in, 'we do after all need to have a way of escaping, if we're caught up in an attack y'know.'

Rose thought that this was a little melodramatic - after all, there'd only been one explosion, and although it was tragic there was no evidence that it was any more than the one-off action of a madman. Still, she did stare at the wooden circle with a little more concentration than before, and she managed her third Apparition, although she did reappear thirty feet away from the target. Ignoring Albus' smirk - he was stood smugly inside his own wooden circle - she marched back to her place, taking a small amount of satisfaction in the fact that Scorpius Malfoy at least had only managed to twist an ankle spinning around, and hadn't Apparated so much as an inch yet.

A few days later, Scorpius woke at dawn and dressed in his smartest robes, combing his hair extra neatly and slipping out of the dormitory before the others awoke. Slytherin House was at its quietest - it was never silent - as he crept through the anterooms and the Common Room, where just a few students were up, studying or just sitting looking out at the Black Lake. Scorpius was using the fireplace in Professor Flint's study, as it was the nearest one linked up to the Floo Network, and he found his Head of House looking rather crumpled and tired at the early hour, sat sleepily behind his desk.

'Hullo, Malfoy,' Flint sighed as he entered the study. 'You might as well go straight through. Just say 'The Ministry of Magic' as you step through, and it will take you to the Ministry Atrium. Ministry wizards will take you from there.'

'Yes, sir,' said Scorpius, swallowing as he stepped towards the fireplace, where embers were burning dully. Flint caught his shoulder, holding it with one meaty hand.

'Good luck, Malfoy,' he murmured. 'I know your father well, and I wish you all the best. Go along, now.'

Scorpius wanted to thank the man, but he was finding it very hard to speak past the lump in his throat, and anyway Flint was ushering him on into the fireplace. He took a handful of Floo powder from the box on the mantlepiece and threw it into the fire, watching as the embers burst into green flames. Trying not the breath in a lungful of ash, he stepped into the fire and said, as clearly as possible, 'The Ministry of Magic!'

A force instantly sped him away, spinning him faster than he thought possible, as he kept his eyes tight shut and hoped that he wouldn't be sick. Arriving in robes covered in ash and vomit wouldn't make the best impression on the Wizengamot. Luckily, the journey was over as quickly as it had begun, and he found himself being spat out into the familiar, arched room already busy with bustling crowds of witches and wizards.

He moved out of the way of the fireplace just in time, as another wizard appeared behind him, and he stood for a moment to get his bearings, as the room seemed to tip on an axis and a feeling of nausea churned inside him.

'Scorpius Malfoy! Scorpius Malfoy!'

He looked around, dreading the arrival of reporters, but instead it was the squat, balding wizard who'd accompanied him and his mother to Azkaban. The man must be assigned to be some sort of dogsbody for the case. The man was attempting an ingratiating smile, which Scorpius did not return.

'Come along, Mr Malfoy, we'd better get down to level nine,' said the man, hurrying him across the Atrium to the gilded lifts on the farthest side. 'Your mother's already there, I think, at least that's what I heard before I left. What's the time? Gosh, not even seven! They are being rather prompt about this, but then again the trial is at eight twenty-six _on the dot_ , and there's ever so much admin and paperwork to do with these things. I'm afraid your hand will rather ache from all the forms you've got to fill in! Come now, in!'

The man - who later turned out to be called Peasgood - kept up this chatter all the way down to level ten, where the Wizengamot courtrooms were. It was cool and dimly lit down there, the white-flamed brackets on the walls casting strange shadows and bleaching what little colour remained in the faces of the few witches and wizards who walked silently past. Scorpius looked at his hands, splaying the long fingers, and saw that they'd turned a bluish-grey.

'This way!' chirruped Peasgood, voice reverberating strangely in the space. A passing Unspeakable, whose wide-set eyes and long face meant he bore a striking resemblance to a hammerhead shark, gave them a haughty look as he walked past.

Scorpius followed the square little figure of Peasgood now a long, narrow staircase that curved down into the darkness, the stairs below melting into inky black, and he'd lost count of the steps when Peasgood suddenly turned a sharp left, disappearing through an archway into another corridor. Scorpius hadn't ever been to this area of the Ministry before.

It was quite clear, however, that they had come to the right place. A gaggle of witches and wizards were huddled in the narrow corridor, speaking in the hushed voices usually reserved for libraries and the presence of the dying. Scorpius felt his nervousness redouble as Peasgood led him towards the group, or more specifically, towards a thin witch stood near the centre of the group.

'Madame Thackerey,' said Peasgood, 'I've brought Scorpius Malfoy.'

The woman turned to look at Peasgood, and then at Scorpius. Although her hair was dark in its neat bun, the lightly etched lines around her eyes and mouth showed that she was entering middle-age. She smiled at Scorpius, but her expression remained as cold as the tiled walls around them.

'Mr Malfoy,' she said, nodding to him. 'I am Justina Thackerey, I'm the Administrator for this case. Follow me, please.'

She led him into a small anteroom, where a clerk with shaking hands was going through a tottering pile of parchment documents. 'Belby, I want the forms for Scorpius Malfoy.'

'Y-Yes, here, Ms Thackerey.'

There seemed to be innumerable forms for Scorpius to sign, waivers and conditions and declarations, and then he was sat on a hard wooden chair, and left alone. For nearly an hour, he sat watching the second hand on the clock opposite him make its endless cycles, meditated on the steady movement of the minute hand, and all the while a constant, slow flurry of movement shifted around him.

At three minutes to eight, a slight diversion was caused by the sudden appearance of Astoria Malfoy. She swept into the room, the clerks seeming like flies on a prize-winning thoroughbred as she brushed them away and went over to Scorpius, who stood to meet her. 'Mother.'

Although still beautiful, she looked tired, as if she hadn't slept in weeks, purplish marks of exhaustion around her eyes. The smile that appeared on her lips at the sight of him trembled, and disappeared almost immediately.

'You are both witnesses,' a voice rang out, 'no private contact permitted.'

Mother and son looked extremely alike as they directed an identical look of haughty disdain at the clerk, who looked suddenly embarrassed at his impertinence, but stared stubbornly at them until they stepped apart. As Astoria was led away to sign her own forms, Peasgood reappeared and bounced over to Scorpius, who had sat back down again in resignation.

Peasgood seemed to have been told to keep a closer eye on him, as for the next half an hour he stood, fidgeting constantly, beside Scorpius' chair. He was close enough that Scorpius could smell the cheap, cloying scent of his aftershave and see the beads of sweat that beaded on the fat folds of Peasgood's neck.

His father's lawyer, Callaghan, appeared soon after. He was a burly, freckled man with a broad, honest face, but despite his appearance he was becoming renowned for his cunning and intelligence in the courtroom. Shaking Scorpius' hand, he grasped his shoulder.

'You remember everything we discussed?'

Scorpius nodded. He didn't think he was able to speak.

'Good man. Keep calm, don't get caught up, and you'll be alright.'

There was another stir at eight-twenty-six, when the trial began. All fifty members of the Wizengamot filed past the doorway, a few glancing in at them curiously, and then the door swung shut behind the British Youth Representative and there was a moment of silence again.

Scorpius began feverishly going over in his mind the instructions that Callaghan had given him. It had seemed fairly easy before - answer the prosector's questions as simply as possible, say the short statement they'd prepared, don't get carried away - but now that he was faced with the daunting prospect of actually standing up in front of the whole Wizengamot and having to represent his father, it seemed like an impossible ask. He was bound to screw up, to mix up his words, and if he did then it meant prison for his father.

'Second witness - Scorpius Malfoy,' called a dull, monotonous voice, and he stood up. He felt light-headed, but he was glad that he hadn't eaten anything as he was quite sure he'd just vomit it up again.

The courtroom was a large, circular chamber, like a gigantic cylinder, and the Wizengamot were sat on raised seats that started about six foot above where he was led in to stand, in the very centre of the room. He was forcefully reminded of a gladiators' pit, with the merciless spectators watching from the amphitheatre stands.

Although he didn't want to, Scorpius forced himself to crane his neck and look straight up at the Wizengamot, especially the three members sat on the front row, with gold trim on their purple robes. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat in the centre, with a blonde man Scorpius didn't recognise on his left, and on his right none other than Harry Potter, Albus' father. The sight of him, looking just like an aged Albus, made Scorpius' stomach twist. If Harry Potter was the man who sent his father to jail, how was Scorpius supposed to ever face him again, how would he face Albus, even? He was only glad for the fact that at least Rose Weasley's mother, Minister for Magic Granger, was not attending the trial.

Looking around, he felt another pang at the sight of his own father, sat chained to a chair across the room. He looked, if possible, even worse than last time they'd met. He was so thin now that his torso was concave, his limbs curling around around nothing, and although he'd clearly had the chance to clean up a little his new robes did nothing to hide the prominence of his bones, and his combed hair only accentuated his face's resemblance to a skull.

'Take your place on the stand please,' the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt rang out. He was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and so was apparently presiding over the case. Scorpius looked around, and saw a small raised box that looked a little like a Muggle pulpit. His footsteps echoed strangely in the silent chamber as he walked over to it.

'Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,' said Kingsley, his voice slow and steady. 'You have been called in front of the Wizengamot as a witness, to give testimony as to your father's character, and to give any evidence you may have regarding the charges laid against your father, Draco Lucius Malfoy. Do you have anything you wish to say before questioning begins?'

The trial seemed to last forever. There was Scorpius' statement, and then a seemingly endless stream of questions, until Scorpius felt drained and exhausted. It wasn't Kingsley carrying out the questioning, as Scorpius had hoped, but the blond prosecutor, who was apparently called Zachariah Smith, and who spoke throughout in a snide and sneering voice.

'How much contact did you have with your father's business dealings?'

'Very little.'

'Very little? So you did have some contact?'

'No, I only knew details that were public anyway.'

'Were you ever privy to the meetings he held with clients and partners?'

'No, I never joined them.'

'Did he tell you any specific details about his businesses?'

'Objection!' called Callaghan, leaning over the barrier and holding up a hand. 'The prosecutor is unproductively repeating previously answered questions.'

'Yes, objection upheld,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt, nodding to Callaghan who sat back in his seat looking only slightly mollified. 'Prosecutor Smith, please keep within the bounds of reasonable questioning. In fact, I think you have exhausted your time. Potter, do you have any questions for the witness?'

Harry Potter had been sat back in his seat, his face half in shadow, although he'd clearly been watching it all closely. When Shacklebolt spoke to him, however, he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and giving Scorpius an intent stare. Scorpius found it impossible to look away; behind the round spectacles, his eyes were the exact shade of green as Albus' eyes.

'I'll only ask one question, but I'll do my best to make sure this one is exactly on point. Scorpius Malfoy, from your complete knowledge of your father's work and businesses, do you have any knowledge or evidence that he has ever committed serious wrongdoing and malpractice, of the sort laid against him in these charges?'

Scorpius felt his mouth go dry. What could he say? He had some knowledge, yes, but only the sort he'd pieced together from the snippets of conversations and glimpses of written words on papers, the picture that he'd jumbled into sense through curiosity, like the stupid little boy that he was. How could he say he knew nothing, when really he did? He would be lying, lying to the Wizengamot, and that could get him jailed right alongside his father. He was seventeen in a few months, they could send him to Azkaban then. He was intensely aware of the whole Wizengamot watching him, awaiting his answer. Harry Potter still held him in his gaze.

Swallowing, he took a deep breath, and spoke: 'I have no evidence that my father committed any wrongdoing or malpractice in his work.'

Silence. He looked up at the three men, his heart thudding against his chest, his lungs suddenly very tight. Would they catch him out? Would any of them point out that he had _not_ mentioned if he had any knowledge, only that he had no evidence? It was true, after all, that he had no concrete evidence of what his father had done, that wasn't lying at all. But Zachariah Smith seemed to be sulking after his reprimand, and was staring into space, scratching his nose. Kingsley Shacklebolt was now the one sat back in shadow, and he too remained silent. Then he looked at Harry Potter, who was still looking a him. Their eyes met again, and he thought he saw an inkling of understanding in the older man's face, that Harry Potter knew, to an extent, what Scorpius was really saying.

His breath caught in his throat and he waited for the next question, but then Harry Potter just looked away and turned to Shacklebolt, saying: 'I think we're finished with this witness, aren't we?'

'Yes, the boy has endured quite enough from Smith's hot iron,' said Kingsley, and there was a murmur of laughter from the other members. 'Witness dismissed.'

Scorpius was led from the chamber, and sat back down in the little antechamber with Peasgood. His mother had been the first witness, and they were allowed to sit together now. She took one of his hands and traced it with her own fingers, brushing over the veins, the little lines on his knuckles, the trimmed nails. They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the incessant tick of the clock on the wall, and just enjoying each other's companionship. Finally, when the hands of the clock struck eleven, the door of the courtroom opened and the Wizengamot began to file out.

His heart regaining its former tempo, Scorpius stood up. His mother was holding his hand tightly now, and although it hurt he didn't let go. The fifty members of the Wizengamot filed past the doorway, and again none of them looked in at them except Hartley McKinnock, who was a Ravenclaw in Scorpius' year. He gave them a slight nod, and then hurried to keep up with the others.

Callaghan appeared a few seconds later looking very fatigued. He looked at them both, and said in a low voice: 'Not guilty.' He raised a hand to stop them as they began to look elated. 'But only in that there was not enough evidence to give a sure verdict. Mr Malfoy will not return to Azkaban, but his business assets are frozen for the time being, and he will likely not regain access to them. They're being thoroughly vetted, and that process can take years.'

'That's alright,' said Scorpius' mother in a hushed voice. 'We don't care about his business assets, just as long as we've got him back. Can we see him?'

'I'll go get him.'

The broad, honest-faced man left, and Scorpius' mother turned to him and gave him a rare embrace. 'Oh, Scorpius,' she said. Her voice cracked slightly, and he felt teardrops fall on the top of his head.

When his father reappeared a moment later, she had become quite composed again, and she just gave him a demure kiss on his worn face. Although still emaciated, Scorpius saw that his father's eyes had at least regained some of their old light and life. He smiled at Scorpius, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'Thank you, my son. Thank you.'

The celebrations that evening in Slytherin House were some of the biggest Scorpius had ever seen. The news of his father's verdict had spread like Fiendfyre, and he was not only restored to his old popularity, but he'd strangely become a bit of a celebrity, too. Everyone in the house wanted to hear his account of the trial, and he found himself being born from room to room with a pack of admirers, who all plied him with drink until he was not actually able to speak any more.

Albus followed it all with a quiet enjoyment, merely content to see his friend happy again. He himself was careful not to drink; although he wasn't the sort to talk, he couldn't risk becoming too intoxicated and revealing his own secret. So he stayed on the fringes of the ruckus, a small drink in his hand, and simply waited until Scorpius was entirely legless, when he stepped in and carried him to his bed.

Scorpius remained in a state of jubilation for several days, and it was only because of his previous unhappiness that his friends endured the constant regaling and repetition of anecdotes from the trial. He was oblivious to any annoyance they might have, anyway, because surely this was the best news in the world, the most interesting thing to have happened for years.

The only dark spot, however, was the way that Rose was acting towards him. Since the announcement that Scorpius' father was under arrest, Rose had treated him with an unusual amount of respect and tact, remaining polite instead of getting into the furious arguments that were normal between them. And to be fair, indulging in wind-ups and teasing would look like she was 'piling on', when he was already being pushed about and even beaten up. But since he returned, and the outcome of the trial was announced, she quite suddenly refused to speak to him at all, and Albus thought that she looked rather obnoxiously disdainful whenever she looked at him.

If Scorpius noticed Rose's new attitude, he said nothing about it. But Albus had seen how her eyes flicked onto him and then immediately away when they passed in the corridors, how when she spoke to him she'd now ignore Scorpius when before she would've at least exchanged a few words. And when this behaviour continued for the third day in a row, he made an excuse to leave his friends and caught up with her down the corridor.

'What do you want, Albus? The Slytherin Dungeon is in the other direction,' she said, giving him a sideways glance.

'Don't try and avoid me, 're you acting this way towards Scorpius?' he asked. He'd never been one to beat about the bush with such confrontations.

'Scorpius and I have never exactly liked each other,' she retorted sharply, tossing her hair.

'No, you haven't,' said Albus. He was vividly reminded of the period of their Third and Fourth Years, when the two of them could barely be in the same room without one attempting to hex the other, or in one memorable case, hit them on the nose with a broomstick handle. 'But you've at least been cordial recently, and now you're just ignoring him, and looking at him like he's some sort of lowlife. What's your problem?'

At that moment, they hit a large cluster of Second Years congested on a staircase, and Rose didn't reply until they'd fought their way past and reached a quiet stretch of passageway.

'Because,' she said, appearing to be choosing her words extremely carefully, 'Scorpius' father got off on a mere technicality. So while Scorpius is walking about acting like this is a cause for some great celebration, his father has got away with major fraud and malpractice! I don't want to associate with someone involved with that sort of thing, and I don't think you should be anywhere near it, either!'

Albus stared at her. They'd reached another staircase, and Rose was three steps up before she realised that he wasn't following her anymore. She turned back, arms folded and expression stubborn.

'If you think,' said Albus, his calm voice hiding the boiling anger that he felt inside him, 'that I'm going to abandon my friend because of the rumours and hearsay that his father should be in jail, you clearly don't know a single thing about me. Slytherins are supposed to be ambitious and cunning, but at least we have some common decency and loyalty towards our friends.'

'I do have decency!' snapped Rose, glaring at him. 'That's why I'm saying this! Because his family mixed up in an absolute swamp of suspicious things. It's what our parents have spent their lives fighting, Albus!'

'If I remember correctly, our parents have spent their lives fighting against a force a bit stronger than a sixteen-year-old who's just happy that his father is no longer imprisoned,' said Albus coldly. 'Get your priorities straight, Rose, and remember that Scorpius hasn't done anything wrong.'

He turned and began to walk away, feeling her eyes burn on the back of his head as he did. He was so angry that he decided to go a longer but quieter route back to the Common Room, as he didn't have the patience to deal with idiotic younger students and bolshy older ones. Turning away from the staircase, he went down a narrow corridor and another winding staircase, and then ducked through a facade portrait into a secret passageway.

It was much darker in this passage, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and recognise the figures pressing against the stone wall, their arms around each other.

'Lily!' he burst out, staring at her with an aghast expression. The two figures jumped apart and Lily turned to look at him, clearly surprised to see him but with a stubbornly unconcerned expression on her face. Her eyebrows raised very slightly as she looked at him.

'Something wrong, Albus?'

'What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?' he snapped, waving a hand at the boy, who was stood looking absolutely terrified.

'I'd've thought you'd be familiar with the practice by now, Albus, I'm _so_ sorry,' she retorted, smirking. He resisted the urge to hex the sarcasm off her face.

'You're too young! And who the hell are you?' he asked, turning his wand on the boy, who turned a vague shade of puce.

'Albus, stop, you're sounding like James,' said Lily, rolling her eyes. 'I'm not too young, you and James were both getting up to this sort of thing when you were my age, you're being an absolute hypocrite. Just go away and leave me be!'

'No,' snapped Albus, furious. He trained his wand light on the boy's tie, which was blue and bronze. 'Right, you can go straight back to Ravenclaw Tower, and I'm escorting my little sister to her own house.'

'No you won't!' yelled Lily, grabbing the boy by the hand. 'Yes, we're going, but you're not escorting me anywhere. Come on, Austin!'

'Wait!' cried Albus, but she trained her wand on him, now.

'No, you wait,' said Lily coldly. 'I know a few good hexes myself, Albus. You'll stay right there if you know what's good for you, and remember that I'm _not_ going to be controlled by you, James, or anyone.'

And so he watched, helpless, as she marched off with the boy in tow. Wondering what other members of his family he had to argue with, he set off again, headed down towards the dungeons. He reached there without a mishap, and found his friends sat around quietly, pretending to work but actually talking over half a bottle of bourbon. Scorpius glanced at him as he sat down, asking what took him so long, but Albus just shrugged and pulled his Transfiguration essay out his bag as a distraction. But hardly five minutes in, he realised that his introduction was an absolute mess and he had no idea how to put together a succinct argument for the other two feet of parchment. Putting it away for later, he pulled out a book he had been meaning to read, about dealing with objects imbued with Dark Magic. But the words seemed to just bounce off the back of his eyes and he could make no sense of them. Instead of Dark Detectors and curses, the images of Rose's glare and Lily's stubborn defiance swam in his head.

After an hour or so of just flicking through the pages and pretending to listen to Fitzroy's long-winded story about a set of twins that he was trying to pursue, Albus decided to go to bed. The alcohol was nearly all drunk, anyway, and the conversations were getting steadily less interesting. As he stood up and packed his things back into his schoolbag, he found Scorpius standing up with him.

'You alright, Albus?' Scorpius asked as they set off through the anterooms, the library, and then up the winding staircase to their dormitory. 'You're acting quiet. Is something going on?'

Albus shrugged, attempting (and failing) to push his hair back off his face. They reached the top of the stairs and walked into their dormitory, which was empty. As Scorpius sat down on his bed and began to unlace his shoes, Albus looked at him, considering whether to tell him about what was going on with Professor Chang. He'd avoided the subject before, as he didn't want to heap extra burdens on his friend's shoulders, but now that Scorpius' father was not facing jail time, he couldn't find a valid reason to keep the subject from his best friend. But still, the thought of what Scorpius' reaction might be made him cringe away from it.

Still, he decided he had to do it. Sitting down opposite Scorpius, he took a deep breath and said: 'Look, there is something that I've -'

 _BANG._ They both jumped around as the door slammed open and Zabini, Langwith and Fitzroy all burst in, laughing at some story Langwith was telling. 'And then, he just tripped over his own robes, and slipped right into the pig!' finished Langwith, waving his hands to illustrate as Zabini and Fitzroy laughed even louder.

At the sight of the three other roommates, Albus immediately stopped talking and bent to untie his own shoelaces. When he straightened up again, Scorpius gave him a meaningful look, but Albus just shook his head, and went into the bathroom to have a shower. There was no way he was attempting to have the conversation with the other three in the room as well.

The next day was a Thursday, and Albus remembered as soon as he awoke that he had another 'tutoring' session later that day. The thought of it cheered him slightly, and he managed to smile and laugh at Fitzroy's chatter, even though both Lily and Rose blanked him when they passed on the way to breakfast.

Throughout the morning, Scorpius seemed to want to get Albus on his own, to pursue the conversation that had been interrupted the night before, but the others were hanging about like flies, and anyway Albus didn't want to talk about it anywhere remotely public. He also, secretly, wanted to put off the subject again, his courage damaged by the interruption the night before. It was easier during the daytime to find excuses why they couldn't talk privately.

At dinner, the Zabini twins had made a plan for them to all go to the hot tubs and swimming pool that evening, but Albus made the excuse that he had to go to his tutoring session. Vittoria Zabini turned her gaze on him, her brows arched. 'Really? You _still_ need tutoring? But you're getting top marks in everything.'

'Yes … well …' said Albus, trying not to turn red. 'Professor Chang thinks I should continue to … to make sure I really get to grips with non-verbal spells, you know?'

Vittoria still looked incredulous, but Scorpius distracted her by saying that he also couldn't make it due to mentoring. 'Kirkby's got into detention again and I've got to run it,' he said, shrugging. 'Along with a couple of other turds.'

'Merlin, I thought we were meant to be fun!' complained Vittoria, tossing her hair and going around the others to make them promise to come. Scorpius caught Albus' eye from across the table, but Albus just shook his head and busied himself with the remnants of his chicken pie.

It was hard to not seem rushed as they finished their food and headed out of the Great Hall, the others seeming to meander achingly slowly, chatting and laughing and hailing other students that they knew. Scorpius disappeared to catch Kirkby, who he'd spotted attempting to sneak off, and the others were too caught up in conversation to take much notice of Albus as he bade them goodbye and headed up the Marble Staircase.

Professor Chang - although she was Cho now, really - was looking particularly beautiful in a set of deep purple robes trimmed in silver, a silver chain around her neck, but she didn't smile when she turned and saw Albus in the doorway. He shut the door behind him and went over to her, reaching out to take her hand, but she just stepped away.

'What's wrong?' he asked, frowning slightly as he tried to look her in the eye. 'Have I done something?'

'No,' she said, shaking her head. 'I … I want you to go, Albus. We need to end this.'

He stared at her. 'Why?'

'You know why!' she snapped. 'A thousand reasons why! I'm your teacher, you're my student! Don't you realise how much trouble we'll be in if we're caught?'

'But why would we be caught?'

'Albus, I'm ending these tutoring sessions, go back to your Common Room-'

'No,' he retorted stubbornly, stepping closer to her again. 'I don't want to end this, and nor do you! Fuck the thousand reasons why, I don't care about any of that. And you don't either, not really.'

'Albus…' she said again, softly this time, and she looked at him properly. Taking her by the hand, he stepped close to her, and kissed her on the lips. 'Albus, we shouldn't.'

'We should,' he replied, parting her thighs and standing between them, pressing himself against her and enjoying how her body relaxed instantly against his. 'You know we should, you want this.'

His lips found her neck, and he elicited moans from her as he kissed and sucked, his hands slipping underneath her robes to touch her. Her hands were on him, now, holding on him and squeezing his arse. The rest of the world was forgotten, it was just the two of them, kissing and clinging, just them.

Until…

'Professor?'

They burst apart as if jinxed, Albus found himself thrown backwards and stumbled into the blackboard, but there was no hiding what they'd been doing from none other than Rose. She was stood in the doorway, a half-written essay in her hand, the colour rapidly draining from her face as she looked between the two of them. Then she turned, and walked out of the room.

Albus ran after her, attempting in vain to straighten his robes as he chased her down the corridor, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stop. 'Rose! Rose, wait!'

She turned to look at him, and he was shocked to see tears in her eyes. But as the colour reappeared on her cheeks, he quickly realised that they were tears of anger. 'You are an absolute _bastard_ Albus Potter!' she cried, shoving him away from her. 'What the fuck do you think you're doing?'

'Rose, please, I'm begging you-'

'Oh don't you dare ask me to hide this for you, Albus,' she said, shaking her head. 'It's wrong, it's disgusting! How could you do this? Do you not realise how serious this is? She's going to get fired, you could get expelled! And this will come straight back to our parents, don't you think it won't. You - you're like a _child_ , I mean Merlin I could hit you!'

'Please, Rose,' he said, staring desperately at her.

'No, Albus,' she said, shaking her head. 'You can either come with me, or wait for them to come get you. It's your choice.'

And so, an hour later, Albus found himself sat in front of Headmistress Clearwater and Professor Flint, staring at his knees and feeling his cheeks burn. It felt as if they'd been sat there in silence for years, just listening to the regular tick of the clock on the wall and the mutterings of the portraits on the study walls. Then, all at once, there was a roar behind Albus and he turned instinctively to see that the flames in the grate had turned bright green, and his father came spinning into view.

He stepped out of the fire quite neatly, brushing ash from his clothes and taking his glasses off to clean them, and then he looked around at the three of them. 'What's wrong? I got a message saying I had to come urgently, I thought maybe someone was hurt …'

He looked Albus up and down, as if checking for bandages or missing limbs, and then when he saw it was nothing physical, he looked if possible even more worried. Albus went back to staring at his knees.

'Please take a seat, Mr Potter,' said Clearwater. 'We sent a message to Mrs Potter, too…'

'Ginny's gone to Romania to visit her brother, so I'm handling this,' said Albus' father. 'What's going on? Albus, is something wrong?'

'I think we should just tell you straight, Mr Potter,' said Clearwater. 'Your son has been caught having illicit relations with a teacher.'

Albus felt his father's eyes bore into him, and he forced himself to look up.

'Illicit relations? Not …'

The expression of shock and disappointment was one that Albus had never seen on his father's face, and certainly never when looking at him. At the sight of it, something seemed to die, deep down in the space behind his chest and stomach, and had to look away.

'Albus, is this true?'

There was a long pause, then he nodded, once. There was no point in lying, not now. His father let out a long sigh, and ran his hands over his face. 'Oh, Albus! For Merlin's sake. Who - who was it?'

'Professor Cho Chang,' said Clearwater.

Albus was expecting a bad reaction from his father, expecting him to be angry and disappointed with him. What he was expecting was the look of instant fury and disgust that appeared on his father's face, as he jumped up and looked between the three of them. 'That can't be true.'

'It is, Mr Potter,' said Clearwater, who looked as surprised at his reaction as Albus was. Flint's expression was unreadable. 'Please, sit down and remain calm.'

'I won't - bring her in, I need to speak to her, need to find out what sick, depraved thoughts were going through her mind when she went after my son!' he yelled. 'Where is she?'

Albus stared at his father. He'd never seen him lose control like this, it was always his mother who shouted, but his father was suddenly quite demented. 'Dad, please!'

'No, Albus, you don't understand, you can't understand, I never said, you see…' But Albus' father seemed unable to put into words what he was feeling, he looked nauseated. 'Where is she?'

'We had her wait outside,' said Flint, before Clearwater could stop him. Without a word, Albus' father spun on his heel and marched to the door, throwing it open and rounding on Professor Chang, who was looking pale and shaky. For one wild moment, Albus thought that his father would curse her, but instead he just said in a low, deadly voice.

'I never expected you to sink to a low such as this, Cho.'

She looked up at him, shaking even more, and then burst into tears. Albus wanted to stand up, to go to her, but something kept him frozen in his seat, watching the scene in horror.

'Mr Potter, I'm sure you have many questions, but at this point we need to talk to Albus,' said Clearwater. 'There are some things we need him to tell us. So please, take a seat, and we will try to answer your own questions after.'

Albus looked up, meeting her clear blue gaze. His father sighed, and then reentered the room and shut the door. He stayed stood in the corner of the room, a hand over his face, and the two teachers turned to Albus. 'Potter,' said Flint, leaning forward now and resting a hand on the back of Clearwater's chair. 'You are sixteen years old. Therefore if you and Professor Chang did more than what Miss Weasley saw, if you had … sexual relations, it is a crime. Understand?'

He looked up, and nodded.

'So we need you to tell the truth. Did you have sexual relations with Professor Chang?'

There was a long pause, as Albus felt the burning gaze of all three adults, all of them watching and waiting for his reply. He should tell the truth, he knew that, but the image of Cho weeping into her hands swam across his mind, and he took a deep, shuddering breath, and shook his head.

'Potter,' said Flint, and Albus knew he didn't believe him. 'Answer me truthfully, now!'

'No,' said Albus.

'If you're lying, I will have you expelled!' roared Flint, slamming a palm on the desk.

'He's given his answer!' snapped Albus' father. 'I won't have you verbally abuse my son!'

'Yes, Marcus, calm down,' said Clearwater. 'Fine. That makes it a little simpler. Professor Chang in fact handed in her resignation forty-two minutes ago, she's going to go do research at the Salem Witches Institute. She won't ever work closely with children again. Hopefully we can count on Miss Weasley to keep this quiet, and as long as the story doesn't spread this should stay out the papers. I'm sure you're glad of that, Mr Potter.'

'There's not much I'm glad of here, Penelope,' said Albus' father.

'But what about me?' asked Albus, looking up again. They all turned to stare at him. 'What's going to happen to me? I was in the wrong too!'

'Albus!' said his father warningly.

'I was in the wrong, why should she have to leave and I shouldn't?'

'Potter, stop it right now!' snapped Flint. But Albus wasn't listening. Standing up so forcefully he knocked his chair over, he ducked away from his father and ran from the room, taking the stairs two at a time and dashing almost straight into Rose. She'd been waiting, on the other side of the gargoyle.

'Albus?'

He looked at her, and felt the anger and pain that had been trapped inside him burst out, tears running down his face as he shoved her off him. 'Get away from me! In fact, never come near me again! I hate you!' he yelled.

There were tears in her eyes now, and without a word she turned, and ran away. Footsteps behind him told him that he was being followed, that someone was coming to get him back. Quickly, he ducked behind a large bust of a warty wizard in a nearby alcove, watching from behind the large marble ears. His father stepped out from behind the gargoyle and looked around the apparently empty corridor. Albus was shocked to see how old his father looked. His face looked suddenly much more lined, his eyes set with fatigue. He stood quite still for a while, apparently deep in thought, and then he turned and went back up the staircase again. Albus waited until his footsteps had died away completely, and then walked away in the opposite direction.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

It was a while since Scorpius had spent time with Kirkby, but the boy did not seem to have changed much since the last time. He was still a mouthy, impudent, and undeniably funny brat who refused to sit straight in his chair and virtually had to be tied down in order to focus on his work. Scorpius hadn't realised how much he missed him, until they sat down opposite each other again.

'Alright, what did you do this time?'

Kirkby shrugged, picking at his teeth with a grubby thumbnail. 'Told Professor Boyle that she looked like her name.'

As he suppressed his smile with considerable difficult, Scorpius looked down at the note Professor Flint had passed on to him. 'It says here you committed "gross misconduct".'

'That's an overreaction. I was just making an observation, and she insulted me first,' said Kirkby.

'Whatever. Write out a hundred times "I must not insult my professors". And you have to spell professor right every time or I'll make you do it again.'

'I have behavioural problems, I'm not an idiot.'

Scorpius did smile that time, and passed Kirkby a sheet of parchment. There was silence for about a minute, just enough time for Scorpius to pull his own work out of his bag, and then Kirkby looked up. 'So what's the Department of Mysteries like?'

'What?'

'You went there, for your dad's trial. What's it like?'

'I didn't go to the Department of Mysteries, I went to the Wizengamot Chambers. It's different.'

'Same place, I imagine the decor isn't much different.'

'It's big and dark and cold. Get back to your lines!'

'Fine.'

This time, Scorpius managed to write out the title of his essay before he noticed that Kirkby was doodling a spiral on the corner of his parchment. 'Kirkby!'

The boy looked up and opened his mouth, the retort clearly on his tongue, but at that moment the door slammed open and they both looked around as Albus strode in. Scorpius had seen his best friend in a lot of bad states, but he'd never seen him like that. His face was worst than white, it was greenish-grey, and the look in his eyes was positively wild. There was a long moment of silence, and Scorpius began to rise from his chair, but then without a word Albus turned on his heel and left the room. His footsteps echoed quieter and quieter down the corridor, and then silence again. It was Kirkby who spoke.

'There is definitely something up with your friend.'

Scorpius turned away from the door, glancing over at the boy. 'Get back to your lines.' And for some reason, it was that which made Kirkby pick up the pen, and begin to write.

That evening, when Scorpius had finished up with Kirkby and had walked him back to his own Common Room, he spent a long time stood at the top of the staircase that led back towards the dungeons. Then he turned away, and began to walk through the castle. He knew that Albus wasn't in Slytherin House, that he wouldn't be anywhere near people they knew in the state he was in. The search didn't take long.

The full moon was hanging directly over the Astronomy Tower when he climbed through the trapdoor. It was so bright that it illuminated the figure of Albus almost as brightly as daylight, as he lay stretched out on the ground staring up at the night sky. Without a word, Scorpius climbed out and lay down beside him. It was bitterly cold, and he could feel Albus shivering uncontrollably beside him, so he wordlessly cast bluebell flames that hovered in the air between them.

'There's Orion,' he murmured, pointing at the constellation that hung at a slight angle above them. 'And the Plough, and the Dog Star.'

'Yeah.'

'Albus, are you ever going to tell me what's going on?'

The silence stretched out in the space between them for a while, as they both stared up at the clear night. 'I've been sleeping with Professor Chang. We got caught today.'

Scorpius sucked in a deep breath. 'Well that certainly explains the half-mad thing you've got going. But why the fuck didn't you tell me this was happening? How long has this been going on?'

'Few weeks. Maybe two months.'

'Two months! For fuck's sake, Albus, I'm your best friend. If you don't tell me this stuff, what's even the point?'

'I'm sorry,' said Albus, and there was a note of genuine pain in his voice. 'I really am. I know I should have said something before now. I … I made excuses.'

Scorpius sighed, and looked over at Albus. 'You made excuses that I was already dealing with too much, that you didn't want to heap extra on me when there was already so much going on. But come on, Albus, you have to tell me these things. Otherwise I might as well mean about as much to you as Fitzroy and Langwith do.'

'I know. But I thought it was safer if I just didn't tell anyone at all, that I could keep it totally separate.'

'It's hard to keep your school life separate to the private stuff, when the private stuff is that you're fucking your schoolteacher.'

Albus glanced at him, and even in the darkness Scorpius could see the hurt in his expression. 'Thanks, Scorpius.'

'Maybe that was uncalled for. But as your best friend, I'm saying you've been an idiot. Are you in trouble? Like, real trouble?'

He shook his head. 'No, nothing's happening to me. And that's the worst of it. She's got to leave her job, she's leaving everything behind and moving to the States, and I just get to carry on as normal. It's fucked up.'

Scorpius didn't reply, and after a while Albus spoke again:

'Scorpius, you have to know. I told the teachers, and my father, that I didn't have sex with Cho. I had to lie, they would've arrested her otherwise, or made it impossible for her to work again. You're angry that I didn't tell you things - well now I have told you, and you have to keep the secret.'

'Of course I won't tell, Albus. You can't think that I would! But maybe it's better this way - it's easier for her to move on. And I'm guessing you're punishing yourself enough. But what I'm curious about is who caught you?'

'Rose. She caught us and handed us in without a second thought. And then she acted as if it was going to be perfectly fine. I hate her, Scorpius. I really hate her.'

They didn't speak for a long time after that. In fact, they didn't speak until they'd left the tower and made it back to the dungeons. They'd spent so long lying in the dark that he almost thought they'd fall asleep there, but then they were seemingly walking through the silent castle and the dungeons, and then into the dormitory where the other boys lay sleeping.

Albus turned away and made to go straight to bed, but Scorpius caught him before he could and put his arms around him. 'It'll be alright, mate.' He felt a shudder go through Albus' body and wondered if he'd start crying, but then Albus was stepping away and climbing into bed, sliding so far beneath the covers that only his untidy hair could be seen.

The mysterious disappearance of Professor Chang was an immediate topic of speculation and gossip, with countless rumours spreading amongst the student body. As for their friends, they talked about it as much as anyone else, and they also noticed that something was wrong with Albus, but none of them seemed to make the connection between the two. It was something Scorpius was eternally grateful for.

As for Rose, she hadn't said anything either. She hardly came in contact with the Slytherins in the last few weeks of term, and Scorpius figured she'd got the message that Albus did not want to see her.

For Albus himself, it was a confused, extremely painful few weeks that he knew would only be followed by an even worse situation: being stuck at home with his family, many of whom likely would know what had happened and would be a lot less sympathetic than Scorpius. He took to speaking very little, and avoided large groups, preferring to sit alone and bury himself in books.

There were a few small moments of light amidst all the grief. In the final week of term, he was sat alone as usual in one of the sitting rooms that led off from the Slytherin library. He was reading up on Human Transfiguration, which they were starting the next term, and was quite unaware that anyone else was around. That is, until he felt someone sit down beside him, and looked around to see Adelaide Gray had sat down beside him.

It was a long time since he'd thought much about Adelaide. Professor Chang - he'd forced himself to not refer to her by her first name anymore - had distracted him from her. But now she was gone, and he looked at Adelaide properly again, all the confused feelings from before came rushing back. He felt them with a fair amount of consternation; he rather wanted a break from emotions.

'Hello, Albus,' she said, smiling at him. 'Are you alright?'

He shrugged, and she took his hand, squeezing it gently. This companionable action surprised him, and he was struggling to find words to say when the door opened, and they both looked around to see her boyfriend Zachary Bowles stroll in, a bottle in his hand.

'Adie! I've been looking all over for you - come with me, a bunch of us are playing poker in the other room and I'm going to absolutely strip them. No pun intended.'

She immediately let go of Albus' hand and jumped to her feet. 'I guess I'll see you around, Albus,' she said quietly, and then she let her boyfriend kiss her and left the room.

It hadn't snowed by the time the term ended, but it was bitterly cold, and many of the students looked so wrapped up in cloaks as they left the castle that they resembled a herd of waddling penguins more than teenagers. Albus and Scorpius strode along in the general rush, their fine woollen cloaks billowing about them and their emerald-and-silver scarves loose about their necks. Their trunks were floating along behind them, like a pair of obedient hounds. Neither of them spoke much; each was far too caught up in their own thoughts, and their thoughts mainly consisted of what it would be like to see their parents again.

The usual gang of Slytherin Sixth Years filled up one of the larger compartments - having turfed a couple of undersized First Years out - and they all settled into a few hours of alcohol and general rowdiness, to celebrate the end of term. Even Albus found himself getting caught up in it, after Fitzroy and Adelaide forced a couple of gin and tonics down him, and allowed himself to laugh at the jokes the others told and join in the odd bit of conversation. His smile only began to slip again when he noticed that the countryside outside had become very tame and ordered. They'd reached the Home Counties, and sure enough, hardly an hour later the Hogwarts Express was threading through terraced houses and office blocks, and pulling up with a great burst of steam on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.

Albus couldn't help dawdling as he pulled his schoolbag and trunk off the rack above his head, checking and double-checking the clasps and fiddling with the straps, until finally Scorpius tapped him on the arm.

'You can't stay in here forever, mate.'

The others were already hurrying off the train, and with a nod he picked up his trunk and followed his best friend out of the compartment and along the carriage. There was a bottleneck in the doorway, a moment of confusion in the dim light, and then he burst through a gap in the bodies and was on the step down to the platform. He paused for a moment, unable to stop himself from scanning the crowd of parents and grandparents, but before he could catch sight of either his mother or his father, someone had given him a shove in the small of his back and he stumbled down onto the platform. His trunk hit the concrete and he almost fell, catching his shins as he did.

Straightening up, he pushed back his hair and looked around. He was in the middle of the crowd now, and he wasn't tall enough to see over them. Scorpius had disappeared, and Albus wished he was still there so that he could use that extra few inches of height. Before he could spot him, however, he heard someone call his name.

'Albus! Over here!'

Teddy Lupin, resplendent in bright turquoise hair and a smart dragonleather jacket, was striding towards him through the crowd. He'd already been found by Lily, who was dancing along at his side, and Albus couldn't help grinning at the sight of him. It was always good to see Teddy.

The two of them embraced, and then Teddy looked around over the heads of the crowd, frowning slightly. 'Where's James?'

'He's over there, with his _girlfriend_ ,' groaned Lily, indicating to a spot further along the platform. Albus and Teddy craned their necks in unison. About twenty metres away, by a large stack of lost luggage, a figure that was clearly James was kissing a smaller girl with strawberry-blonde hair.

'Ah, I remember when he found such things disgusting,' said Teddy reminiscently. 'Nearly had a seizure the first time he found Victoire and I, you know.'

'James has a girlfriend?' murmured Albus, but the other two didn't seem to hear him. He hadn't realised how oblivious he'd been to the events happening around him.

'How is Victoire?' asked Lily, breaking away from watching James make out with his mystery girlfriend.

'Oh, she's fine,' said Teddy, 'she just had to work today, like your parents. It seems that the last day of term at Hogwarts is when just about everyone in the Ministry and St Mungo's does not want to be working. They ought to make it a holiday, really. Anyway, we'd better get James, or we'll be late.'

Lily frowned up at Teddy. 'But can't we go get burgers and ice-cream on the way?'

He smiled back at her. 'Of course! We'll be late for burgers and ice-cream. Go get him!'

'I won't! _I'm_ not jumping in there. Make Albus do it, he's prudish _and_ knows how to get in the way of couples.'

Albus glared at his little sister. The jibe felt rather close to the bone at that time. 'I'm not going! Lily should have experience on these matters…'

'Doesn't matter,' said Teddy hastily, as the two of them began to face off for an argument. 'They're coming over.'

James was strolling through the crowd towards them, holding his girlfriend by the crowd. She was a nice-looking girl with pretty features, who Albus vaguely recognised. He'd never spoken to her, as she was a Gryffindor and the year above him, but he knew her face from the corridors and hallways. She had a name like Flossie or Izzy or…

'Lizzie!' exclaimed Lily, positively beaming at her.

'Right, yeah, Teddy this is my girlfriend Lizzie Parker. Lizzie, this is Teddy, he's my dad's godson and is a bit of an adoptive brother, I guess,' said James. 'Lily, Albus, you know Lizzie.'

'Yes!' exclaimed Lily. Albus shrugged and attempted to look friendly.

'Hi guys,' said Lizzie, smiling nervously. 'Um … I'd better get going. Mum and Dad are waiting.'

'Oh, yeah, alright,' said James, hugging her again and kissing her briefly. 'Let's meet up soon, okay? I'll take you out in London or something.'

Lizzie nodded and hurried off through the crowd. As they all set off with Teddy leading, Albus turned to James and stared at him. 'You have a girlfriend?'

'Where have you been for the past six weeks?' retorted James. 'In the Shrieking Shack? Yeah, I have a girlfriend.'

' _You_? Mr Commitment-is-for-losers?'

'I'm not fifteen anymore, Albus. You should give this girlfriend thing a go, you know. It's pretty fun once you get into it.' He winked, and then sped up to walk with Lily, leaving Albus to tail the group alone.

Outside of King's Cross station, they walked a little way around the corner to where Teddy had parked. A smart-looking sportscar was parked right beside the station, between two double-decker buses. As they loaded the luggage into the boot - which was magically extended, of course - Lily frowned and looked around them.

'Teddy, isn't this only for buses?'

'Yeah, but Muggles don't seem to notice this car,' said Teddy airily. Albus noticed a Muggle traffic warden walking past on the other side of the street, apparently oblivious to the bright red soft top sportscar that was flagrantly flouting the rules just a few feet away. Giggling like naughty children, the four of them hurried into the car and Teddy set off, speeding through the busy streets of London at a much faster pace than the traffic around them was managing.

They stopped off at an American-style diner just outside of the city, and while Lily and James happily tucked into their gigantic burgers, Albus found he'd suddenly lost his appetite. He'd momentarily forgotten about the approaching reunion with his parents in the excitement of seeing Teddy, but now that was fading and he was once again less than an hour away from having to see them.

His mood did not go unnoticed. As James and Lily finished their meals they both disappeared off to the bathroom, and Teddy seized the opportunity and leant across the table. 'Albus, what's up?' When Albus didn't reply and merely twirled a cold chip in his fingers, he sighed. 'Look, i know something went down with you and your dad. He wouldn't say what, but he came back from a visit to Hogwarts looking as though he'd just fought a Dementor, and now you're acting as if you've got to face that same beast. Whatever it is, just face up to it. You'll be alright.'

Albus nodded and Teddy seemed to want to say more, but before he could the waitress appeared with the bill, and the moment dissipated in the scramble to find Muggle cash.

It was always a strange feeling for Albus, coming home again from each school term. Despite the fact that he felt a little different at each homecoming, the old house was reliably unchanged. Slightly untidy, with a lawn in need of a mow and a rose climbing unchecked across the face of the house, it was just as he'd left it a few months before but for the change in the season. He couldn't remember if he'd ever walked across the front lawn with such a feeling of trepidation, however. His stomach was in a Gordian's knot, and his hand felt so sweaty he could hardly keep hold of his trunk. This certainly beat the time he came home having received a T in his Transfiguration exam (he'd gone to an all-night party the evening before, and had lost concentration while transfiguring his molerat into a salamander, causing it to grow ten times in size and rampage through the classroom). This definitely beat the first ever end-of-term, when he walked in wearing a Slytherin tie, to find his entire extended family in the sitting room.

Teddy went first, throwing open the front door with some gusto and heading straight into the kitchen without a pause. Their parents were cooking, and the room was instantly full of exclamations and greetings, and he found his mother hugging him. A record was spinning on the old player in the corner, and he recognised Bryan Adams' voice. Lily was already chattering loudly and rushing over to hug their father, and then Albus was looking across the room at his father, still stood by the oven with a spatula in one hand, the other arm around Lily. Their eyes met, and Albus felt something clench in his stomach. His father's face was a stony mask.

Spinning around on his heel, Albus rushed from the room, ignoring the shocked voices of Lily and his mother. He walked straight into James, who'd paused in the hallway, but he just kept running, straight up the stairs to his bedroom where he slammed the door and threw himself on the bed. Below him, he could hear a muffled commotion and the clear sounds of a heated debate. Then footsteps came up the stairs and someone came to the door.

'Albus, come downstairs,' said Teddy. He tried the door, but it didn't open. Albus had fitted a charmed handle that locked automatically whenever he shut it, as a precaution against prying parents or curious siblings. After a pause he heard a creak as Teddy crossed the landing, and then his footsteps getting steadily quieter as they went down the stairs.

He lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling above his bed. A long time ago, when he was still a little kid, he'd stuck glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. He'd made a whole night sky of constellations across it, Orion and the Plough and Ursas Minor and Major, and the zodiacs too. The stars had started to fade a little now, but his eyes traced their shapes all the same, remembering how it had felt to lie looking up at each one glowing as brightly as a real star.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he fell asleep, but the next thing he knew he was being woken up by someone banging loudly on the door and rattling the handle. He sat bolt upright, still in his clothes from the day before, and pushed his hair off his face as he looked around towards the door.

'Albus Severus Potter!' It was the unmistakeable sound of his mother's voice, and she was very angry. She sounded as if she'd never been anything but angry. 'Open this door _right now_ , or I will blow it off its hinges and not reattach it for a year! I will count to three!'

Springing from his bed, he darted across the room and opened the door. His mother was stood on the other side, one hand holding her wand and the other raised in a fist to bang the door again, although for a second he wondered if she was about to hit him. She dropped the fist quickly, but advanced into the room with her wand still raised.

'You think that you can come into this house and go about acting like a spoilt child, slamming doors and refusing to come out! I haven't seen you for _months_ , and you just lock yourself away! And don't get me started on how you've been acting at school, don't think that your father hasn't told me what's been happening.'

'Don't start on that!' said Albus. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Oh, you don't want to talk about it? Don't want to talk about it! Well I guess that's alright then, I guess we can just move on, because you don't want to think about what you did. Guess what, you're nearly an adult, you have to confront when you do something wrong. And believe me, Albus, you did something very, very wrong! You acted like a spoiled, immature, selfish child! I've never been so disappointed in my life. So don't you dare think you can get away with this attitude for a single second. Now get changed, I want you downstairs for breakfast with the rest of the family in ten minutes, so we can all eat with your father before he leaves for the Ministry. Go!'

She marched out of the room, leaving Albus feeling rather as if he'd just been stood near a minor explosion. There was a creak on the landing outside, and he looked around to see Lily stood in the doorway, staring in with wide eyes. She was still dressed in her pyjamas, and he wondered if the argument had woken her up.

'What happened? What did you do?'

He stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged, beginning to unbutton his shirt. 'I was in a secret relationship with Professor Chang last term. That's why she had to suddenly leave, and why Mum and Dad are so angry at me. But you can't tell anyone, it's a massive secret.'

To his great surprise, Lily just rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back. 'Merlin, Albus, what a hypocrite you are! Trying to stop me hanging out with boys, all while you're off banging a teacher old enough to be your mother.'

He ignored her, and a few seconds later he heard her footsteps on the stairs. Geared into action by his mother's wroth, he quickly went to his wardrobe and began to change. The only things that he had in there were old jeans and jumpers, items of clothing that he'd never be seen dead in while at Hogwarts, but there was something slightly comforting about the clothes. He found a comb on his dresser and pulled it through his hair to little effect, as his Sleekeazy gel was downstairs, and after a quick glance in the mirror to check he was presentable he headed downstairs.

His father was at the stove making crepes, and Albus glanced awkwardly at him for a moment before hurrying over to sit down beside James at the table. No one acknowledged the argument, although he knew that the entire family had heard it. You could hear when someone crossed the landing upstairs, there was no way they didn't notice his mother screaming at the top of her lungs.

But the crepes were undeniably delicious and the rest of breakfast went without mishap, if you don't count Lily knocking her mug of half-drunk tea onto the butter dish, and once the plates were cleared and their father headed for work, James, Lily and Albus all retreated back to their bedrooms. Albus stood in his doorway for a few seconds, trying to gage his mother's mood and whether she'd let him have the door shut, but Ginny seemed to have disappeared into her study to finish an article. Deciding it was safe, he shut the door and turned to his trunk.

There were several layers to his trunk. The top layer was perfectly ordinary - just some school clothes, a few textbooks, and a litter of quills and ink bottles. This layer was very thin, as he'd left most of his school things in his dormitory. Beneath that were his own clothes, the Muggle clothes and casual robes that he wore in his free time. This was much deeper, and he kept most of those clothes in his trunk during the holidays anyway. He'd found long ago that wearing cashmere sweaters and brogues to family gatherings made him a magnet for annoying and awkward questions, so he consigned himself to living in trainers and t-shirts for a few weeks. There were also some of his own books in there.

Beneath that layer was a third one, a hidden layer that only he could access. It was beneath a false bottom that disappeared when he ran the tip of his wand along the seams. It didn't work for any wand but his. As the dark brown material melted away, rows of boxes and brightly labelled bottles appeared instead. He ran his fingers over them, counting and calculating his stocks. it was running low - he needed to go shopping.

In one corner was a metal safe box, which had an extra charm on it. It burned the fingers of anyone who touched it, except for him. The inside looked quite boring, just a pile of small paper packets each marked with a number. In each packet were coins, Sickles and Galleons and occasionally Knuts, adding up to the number he'd written on the paper. He always had been careful with his accounting.

He took a packet of Sickles and one of Galleons, and stashed them in a black velvet purse he had in his messenger bag. He had a list in his head of what he needed, he'd just have to find some opportunity to sneak off by himself while his family was shopping. It wouldn't be easy, with his parents so angry and distrustful of him, but he had a few ideas.

And he didn't have to wait long. His father announced at dinner that night that, as the next day was a Saturday, he'd have time off work and so they could all go to Diagon Alley together for Christmas shopping. Lily rolled her eyes and stabbed moodily at her chicken - Albus knew she'd be mortified to be seen out in public with her family - and James suddenly had an uncharacteristically sly look on his face. Trying to keep his own expression impassive, Albus said nothing.

The weather was much more mild down in the south of England than at Hogwarts, but an unpleasantly damp wind gusted around them as they set off, and Albus couldn't help wishing he was back in his warm bed. He knew that this shopping trip would probably be very dull and entail lots of trailing around shops after his parents, who'd be indecisive about every single present for their numerous relatives.

'Can't I go to Flourish and Blotts?' he asked, as they stepped reluctantly out of the warm and steamy Leaky Cauldron, and set off down the street.

'Stay with us for a bit, Albus,' said his mother stiffly, and he wondered if she didn't trust him to be by himself. As if he'd run off to shag another older woman as soon as her back was turned.

'Oh, it's alright,' said his father. 'Albus, don't you need to go to Gringott's?'

He shook his head. 'I've got some allowance.'

'Alright. We're going to Madame Malkin's, and then Quality Quidditch Supplies. Don't be too long!'

'Yes, Dad. Thanks.'

As he walked away he heard his mother saying something in a slightly annoyed tone, but he just smirked and hurried off. He hadn't expected to get away quite so easily.

Knowing that it would raise suspicions if he didn't come back out of the shop with books in hand, he grabbed a few that he knew he wanted off the shelves and hurriedly bought them, unable to stop himself from clicking his tongue as the man on the till wrote out a receipt at an achingly slow pace. The old man gave him a disapproving look from under his unkempt white eyebrows, but Albus wasn't sure if that was because of his attitude or because one of the books was called _Dark Wizard or Bright Boy Gone Wrong - A Controversial Biography of Gellert Grindelwald._

Hurrying back out of the shop, he immediately turned back up the street and started towards Knockturn Alley. He'd hardly gone three paces, however, before a familiar voice said: 'Albus.'

With a groan both inward and outward, he turned to look at his little sister. Lily was leaning against the window of Flourish and Blotts, an extremely satisfied smile on her face. He gave her his most malevolent glare, but she just grinned more. 'Where're you off to?'

'None of your business. Shouldn't you be with our parents?'

'I said I wanted to go to Flourish and Blotts, too. I know you're off to Knockturn Alley, you go every time we're here. Don't think I don't notice your little 'I'm-off-to-look-at-books" act, I know you're not _that_ much of a swotty nerd.'

'I do read a lot of books,' he retorted.

She tossed her hair. 'Whatever. Inconsequential evidence. You're off to buy drugs and alcohol, and I'm coming with you.'

'No you're not!'

'I am. Or I'll tell Mum and Dad about your smuggling trade.'

'You wouldn't dare,' he snapped, narrowing his eyes at her.

'Care to risk it? Just _imagine_ the trouble you'd be in. I don't think they'd let you out the house for the whole holiday - maybe not even for the start of term. You'd definitely have to forget about going to Val d'Isole.'

Val d'Isole was a small, entirely magical village on the Alps border between Switzerland and France. It had become a Wizarding hotspot as it was completely inaccessible without magic, which both kept pesky Muggles out and kept it preserved in its beautifully natural splendour. Many of the wealthiest Wizarding families had chalets there, and last year Albus had gone to stay in the Zabini Chalet. The twins had mentioned at the end of term that they should all spend the last week of the holidays there.

'Fine,' he said. 'Come with me then. But don't speak a single word, or I'll leave you in that dodgy old tavern, the Wicked Wench.'

'Ha! Like you'd dare.'

'Also,' he said, stopping again and pulling his cloak off. 'Put this on. And keep the hood up! I'm not having all those creeps staring at you.'

'Merlin,' she muttered, but she put the hood up all the same. They started off again up the street and soon came to the small, dingy entrance to the alley, marked with a crooked old sign that was half obscured by a thick growth of weeds. It was much darker down Knockturn Alley, with the shops leaning drunkenly over the dirty cobbled street, and the air almost seemed thicker, choked with dust and smoke and smells.

Keeping his clothes carefully on Lily's back, Albus walked swiftly down the street, looking neither left nor right and firmly ignoring the many street vendors who leant towards them and rattled trays as they passed. Halfway down the alley he stopped at a small shopfront with dingy, yellowish windowpanes and a peeling sign that simply said: "Wolsey".

'Come on,' he said, stepping towards the door, 'and keep your mouth shut.'

'This place is so dodgy,' whispered Lily.

'I said keep your mouth shut!'

A rusty bell chimed discordantly as they walked into the shop. The front room was hardly bigger than Albus' bedroom, and was furnished with nothing more than a plain wooden counter and a set of locked cabinets across the back wall. As the door creaked shut behind them, there was the sound of footsteps and a flaccid, red-faced man stepped out of the back room. He glanced at Albus and nodded, breathing heavily as he walked to the cabinets and pulled a set of keys from the pocket of his old, rather sweaty robes.

'What's it this time, boy? And who's the girl?'

'No concern of yours,' said Albus quickly, stepping forward so Lily was behind him. 'I need the usual supplies. And extra Billywig powder, it's popular this year.'

'Huh, is it now? Well that'll be forty-eight Galleons, eight Sickles, and fourteen Knuts, if you please,' said the man, Wolsey. Albus muffled a guffaw.

'Nice joke, Wolsey. It's a rip-off at forty Galleons, I'll offer you thirty-five for the lot.'

Wolsey had been midway through pulling packets and boxes from cabinets, and he turned around slowly, a dusty bottle of Firewhisky in each thick-fingered hand. 'Ah, wanting to play this game, eh boy? I'd've thought you'd be wanting to get your things and go, what with this little sweetheart in tow,' he sneered. 'Forty-eight. I'll knock of the Sickles and Knuts, as I'm such a fine gentleman.'

'Thirty-five.'

Wolsey put down the bottles and leant forward, his oversized belly pressing onto the counter. 'I could go to the press, you know. Tell 'em all about your little dealings. Wouldn't that be a story, eh? Harry Potter's precious son is no more than a dirty smuggler. I can see the headlines now.'

'And get yourself locked up for selling alcohol and powders to a child? Anyway, who do you think the _Prophet_ and the Ministry would believe, Potter's precious son or a fat old man in Knockturn Alley?'

Wolsey heaved a sigh, stifled a burp, and then shrugged. 'Alright, Potter. Forty-five.'

'Thirty-seven.'

'Forty-two. Not a Knut less!'

'I'm walking out of here now if it's more than forty. And I'm quite sure I saw some Ministry wizards inspecting a shop a few doors up. Shall I go tell them to have a look in here?'

'Fine! Fine. Forty.'

'Thirty-eight.'

'You said-!'

'Thirty-eight.'

Wolsey was crimson now, his balding head beaded with sweat and the rolls of his belly and neck wobbling. Albus counted out thirty-eight Galleons on the countertop, and Wolsey sighed. 'Fine! You're a swotty little shit, boy. Take your things and go, you're making me bankrupt.'

Albus shoved all the things into his leather bag, which seemed to be able to fit much more than its narrow width should've allowed, and with his hand on Lily's shoulder he marched back out the shop. Lily grinned at him as they stepped back onto the narrow street.

'That was amazing! I can't believe you talked him down like that - can I come with you again? Can I?'

'No,' said Albus shortly.

'Well, can I have some Billywig powder instead? Buy my silence?'

He glared at her, and then reached into his bag and pulled out a paper packet the size of his palm, slapping it into her hand. She quickly shoved it into her own bag and giggled. They set off back up the street towards Diagon Alley. Lily seemed to have become more confident and was looking around much more, pushing her hood back off her face and peering into shop windows.

'Look at this, Albus!'

Reluctantly, he stopped to look at what she was pointing at. It was a small bottle of milky liquid resting on a purple cushion. It looked unremarkable, except that when one looked closely, the liquid had a strange, iridescent, almost gassy quality. 'It's memories, Albus! Someone's memories! And they're just being sold?'

He squinted at the gassy liquid. Something about it made his spine prickle - maybe it was the strange, malevolent quality that it seemed to have, or the fact it was swirling quite of its own accord in the ornate bottle. Straightening up, he looked at the shop sign, and realised that it was Borgin and Burkes. The name was familiar to him, and he remembered that his father and his aunt Hermione had talked about the shop over the summer:

'It's vile, that place! We've been trying to get it shut down for years, but it's like trying to hold Stinksap. _Full_ of Dark Objects!'

Suddenly realising he was holding his wand, he grabbed Lily by the elbow and pulled her away. She protested but walked with him, and soon they were emerging onto the much brighter Diagon Alley.

'Now, remember what we've agreed - not a word to Mum or Dad!' he hissed as they hurried down the cobbled street.

'Yes, yes, I know!'

'Just don't draw attention to the fact that we've been so long-.'

'I don't think we're going to have a problem with that,' said Lily, stopping short and pointing to a scene a little ahead of them. Their parents were stood together outside of Madame Malkin's, and it only took Albus a second to follow the line of their shocked gaze and spot James a few metres away, entwined in an embrace with Lizzie Parker.

Without a word, Albus and Lily hurried forward to get a look in on the scene. James and Lizzie were just breaking apart as they arrived, and their mother took the opportunity to walk over to them. Albus felt slightly sorry for the poor girl - it wasn't the best way to meet one's in-laws - but James still had an arm around her and there was no escape route in sight. Her cheeks were flaming as she greeted their parents.

'Hello Mr and Mrs Potter-'

'Mum, Dad!' With his typical exuberance, James cut across her. Albus' elder brother had always been enthusiastic - about Quidditch, about pranks, and now about his girlfriend. 'This is Lizzie. She's my girlfriend.'

'Hello Lizzie, it's a pleasure to meet you,' said their mother. 'James, you should have told us! You don't need to sneak off like that. Would you like to come have some lunch with us, Lizzie?'

'Thank you, Mrs Potter, but I must get home, my parents are expecting me.'

'Please, call us Harry and Ginny,' said Albus' father, smiling and awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. Albus and Lily exchanged a look. 'So your parents didn't accompany you today?'

'No, sir - Harry - they're Muggles, see. They want to come with me but I think it would be a bit overwhelming, and anyway Mum's a lawyer so she's got lots of work to do, and Dad's looking after my brothers and sisters,' she said, still looking rather pink. 'Sorry, I'm talking too much, I should let you all go…'

'Not at all, Lizzie. Why don't you come over for dinner this week, if you're not too busy? How does tomorrow night sound?' said Harry.

'That sounds great!'

'Alright, nice to meet you, Lizzie,' said their mother. They left James to say his own goodbye and started up the street; Ginny waited until they were out of earshot before turning on their father. 'Tomorrow night? That's a Sunday! Why on _earth_ would you ask that poor girl over for Sunday lunch?'

He stared at her, perplexed. 'What's wrong with that?'

'Harry, for the past seven years the first Sunday of every Christmas holidays has been set aside for a lunch with us and the Weasley-Grangers! How can you forget that? And it's been in the diary for weeks, there's no way we can change it around, it's hard enough getting you and Hermione to be off at the same time as it is!'

'So what's the big deal, she can just meet Hermione and Ron, too! She'll already know Rose and Hugo from Hogwarts…'

'You're expecting that poor girl to not only get through her first dinner with her in-laws, but to manage it with the _Minister for Magic_ there as well? We all love Hermione, but you can't deny she's intimidating! And as for my brother, well my mother must've been drinking Firewhisky when he was developing his conversation filter!'

'Alright, alright! I get what you're saying, I'm _sorry_. Are you happy now?'

'Let's just not tell James about any of it, Merlin knows we don't want him stressed too-.'

'What's up?' James had run up to join them, and all four of them said in unison:

'Nothing!'

As it turned out, the day was even more of a disaster than any of them could have expected. Albus himself was dreading it from the start, as it would mean a solid few hours in a room with Rose, and as neither of them had told the adults about their current hate of each other, they'd probably have to act like friends. And that would mean conversation. And he was quite sure that even the slightest attempt at civil conversation would end up with the two of them screaming a combination of curses and insults at each other. At least, that's how it ended last time.

But as it turned out, his day hit near-disaster within the first few seconds of consciousness. He woke suddenly, and for a moment he was not sure why. And then, a second later, he heard his mother scream his name.

Springing from his bed at lightning-fast speed, he pulled on his dressing gown and ran out onto the landing. His mother was at the bottom of the stairs, and judging from the deep crimson of her cheeks, he was in very deep trouble.

'Albus Severus Potter! What is the meaning of this?'

His mother was waving something in her hand, and it took Albus a moment to realise it was a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Walking tentatively down the stairs, he took it from her. The headline was some fluffy story about the winter wedding of the Seeker for the England Quidditch Team, and it took him a moment to find the smaller article in the corner of the page. The photo showed him and Lily, clearly in Knockturn Alley, hurrying away from Borgin and Burkes.

 ** _Dodgy Dealings?_**

 _Lily and Albus Potter, younger children of Wizarding heroes Harry and Ginny Potter, nee Weasley, were spotted yesterday in the infamously seedy Knockturn Alley. The pair were unaccompanied - despite being under seventeen - and took an interest in several establishments, including the well-known_ Borgin and Burkes. _The shop has been the subject of near-constant lawsuits, searches, and investigations for nearly three decades, and apparently stocks the Darkest magical objects allowed._

 _The reasons for Lily and Albus' trip down the alley are unknown, although witnesses say they were seen leaving the shop of a man named 'Wolsey'. The shopkeeper refused to give an interview, or even to define exactly what he sold in his undeniably bad-smelling premises, but our reporters can say that it was likely not schoolbooks or regulation potions equipment._

 _Neither Harry nor Ginny Potter gave comment on this matter, but we can be quite sure that they will be looking into why their young children went off on this jaunt. Is it a little teenage rebellion - or something much darker? We'll leave them to find out - it's what any responsible parent would do!_

'Mum,' he said, folding the newspaper up again and looking up at her. He tried to remain calm, at least outwardly. 'It's just a stupid article, the _Prophet_ has been writing made-up trash about us our whole lives!'

'Yes, they have,' said his mother, clearly forcing herself to speak calmly. 'They've written silly little articles whenever you've thrown tantrums or fought each other in public, or some stupid teacher leaked that you'd been given detention. But never this! What were you thinking, sneaking off to Knockturn Alley without telling us? And how _dare_ you take Lily along with you! She's fourteen, Albus, you had no right. Explain yourself!'

Albus felt his heart sink. The week in Val d'Isole was fading like dawn mist, to be replaced with another endless seven days at home. There was no way he would be allowed out after this little incident. As he thought of how depressing it would be to hear about his friends' time there when term started, his brain desperately scrambled for something to explain the situation.

'It was me.'

This time, both Ginny and Albus were surprised. Lily was stood at the top of the stairs, still in her pink pyjamas. They stared at her for a few seconds, then their mother spoke.

'L-Lily? What do you mean?'

'It was my idea to go to Knockturn Alley. You've never let me go there before, and I was curious. But I passed Albus on my way, and he wouldn't let me go by myself, he said it was too dangerous. He didn't want me to go at all, really, he was going to force me to go back, but I just said I'd run off another time, so he said he might as well make sure I was safe. He even took his cloak off and put it on me, and made me keep the hood up. So it wasn't his fault at all, he was only trying to look after me.'

Albus was so shocked that he couldn't think of anything to say, and merely shrugged when his mother looked at him.

'Well,' she said, frowning at them both. 'I - I guess that's that, then. We'll get this cleared up, they'll print a correction. And I suppose I should say sorry, Albus, for jumping to conclusions. Lily, you were very silly indeed and I'm extremely disappointed! Now, both of you go and get dressed, I want you back in the kitchen again to help your father and I with lunch.'

She marched off and as the kitchen door swung shut behind her, Albus turned to Lily. 'What did you do that for?'

Lily shrugged, chewing the inside of her cheek. 'I dunno. I guess that as you took me into Knockturn Alley, I should get you out of trouble for it. And if you couldn't go off to that mountain village with all your friends to get intoxicated for a week, I'd have to spend that extra time with you.'

He smiled, and punched her lightly on the shoulder. 'Thanks, Lil.'

'Don't mention it. Seriously though - don't.'

When Albus wandered into the kitchen a while later, dressed as casually as he could manage in a black t-shirt and cream chinos, he found a surprisingly calm scene. His father was checking on something in the oven, Lily was chopping carrots, and the crockery was all ready to be laid out on the clean kitchen table. It was only really his mother who was showing any sign of stress, as she hurried about moving random objects from one place to another, and badgering everyone else about whether things were ready. But Albus knew his parents well - his mother may have appeared more nervous, but his father would be just as stressed out. He was just containing it better.

The morning dawned with a thick layer of frost on the ground, and an icy wind was blowing by the time the Weasley-Grangers hurried up the front garden path, Aunt Hermione casting a protective spell over them all as they clutched cloaks around themselves. Albus, who watched them from the window on the upstairs landing, felt his brief good mood dissipate like smoke on the sea at the sight of Rose's red head bobbing across the grey grass. She was with her bland boyfriend, too. He couldn't help thinking that wearing the Gryffindor scarf was an obnoxious touch, but then he did live in a family of Gryffindors.

'Albus!'

'Coming, Dad.'

The door swung open and the family burst in, calling random greetings and hugging everyone within reach. Albus stayed near the top of the stairs for this, only heading down to the bottom when his Uncle Ron - being a head taller than everyone else - noticed him and hailed him down.

'Albus! How's your term been, then? You're looking taller!'

In his head, Albus scrolled through possible answers to how he'd spent his term. Getting blackout drunk? Selling illicit items? Sleeping with his Charms teacher? Getting _caught_ sleeping with his Charms teacher by said uncle's daughter? But as he thought about it, his eyes met his father's and he remembered quite how suicidal it would be to say anything truthful.

'Fine, thanks! Just focussed on staying on top of schoolwork,' he said, smiling inanely. His father nodded, and turned away to speak to Rose and Daniel. Ignoring the odd, heavy feeling in his stomach, Albus made some excuse and wandered into the kitchen to escape. On his way he managed, somehow, to walk almost directly into Rose, who was looking in the opposite direction. Knowing it would look odd if they ignored each other - especially as their mothers were stood about three feet away - he nodded to her and Daniel.

'Hello Rose.'

'Hello Albus.'

'How're your holidays going?'

'Good, thanks. Daniel's staying for a few days at the moment.'

'That's nice. I'm going to get some water from the kitchen. See you in there!'

Despite expectations, the lunch seemed to be going fairly smoothly in the first hour. James arrived with Lizzie just as everyone was settling down, and the adults did a remarkably good job at not intimidating her - despite the fact that she was meeting the Minister for Magic, the former Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, and all four of them were war heroes. Albus was sat between Hugo and his Aunt Hermione, so he wasn't expected to speak to Rose, although deflecting Hermione's probing questions took about as much effort as being a Beater did. The cooking had been pulled off perfectly, and they'd made it through most of the main course before things took a turn downhill.

'It's so nice to meet the boyfriends and girlfriends of you kids,' said Hermione, smiling around at them all. 'You're all bringing home such nice people! Lily, Hugo, you've got high standards to live up to - when you're old enough for all that, of course.'

Albus ignored the unspoken jibe at him, and Rose's pointed glance from down the table. A small part of him - the meaner part - was tempted to mention catching Lily in hidden places with boys, but then he remembered how she'd covered for him earlier and decided to leave it be. She had the power to get him grounded, now that she knew so much about his smuggling trade. Before he could say anything, anyway, James spoke up from down the table.

'Ah, Lily and Hugo are old enough already, we all know that!'

Silence fell across the dinner table. Lily shot James a furious glance, which he clearly didn't notice, as he carried on obliviously, saying: 'Yeah, we all know that they're seeing people! Surely you've met Theo and Matty?'

If it had felt quiet, now it was positively funereal. Albus looked around, sensing drama that for once did not involve him. Lily's ears had gone as scarlet as her hair, and Hugo looked oddly like he might burst into tears. But why? Surely it wasn't that much of a problem that they had boyfriends, after all they were fourteen. As much as Albus protested over Lily seeing boys, she was getting to that age. So what could cause them to look quite so angry? Unless…

'Matty and Theo? Is that … short for something?' asked Aunt Hermione tentatively, looking at the two of them. It was Lily who spoke.

'Yes, Aunt Hermione. Matthew and Theodore.'

As she said those words, Albus couldn't help thinking how well the scene would do as a Renaissance painting, from the vast variety of expressions. His Uncle Ron was sat opposite him, his fork paused halfway to his mouth as the realisation of what Lily had just said seemed to hit him. His Aunt Hermione's face was a frozen mask, but her eyes were clearly desperately scrambling for the right reaction to give. His own parents were down the table looking incredibly awkward, as did poor Lizzie and Daniel, both of whom were looking at their respective partners. Albus supposed that James and Rose would seem like the only safe spots to look at during this dinner scene. James himself seemed to have realised what he'd done, and was grimacing apologetically. And finally there was Lily and Hugo, who both had the expressions of people who'd just been handed a lit grenade.

'So … who's seeing who?' asked Harry, breaking the silence.

'I'm seeing Matty,' said Hugo, and although his voice shook he looked steadily down the table at his parents. There was something defiant in his expression, as if he was daring them to protest. 'It's not … it's not serious, yet. But we're together. We're seeing each other.'

'Right,' said Hermione, and she managed a smile. 'It would be nice to meet him, Hugo, if you'd like to bring him round. Wouldn't it, Ron?'

Uncle Ron's jaw was clenched, and he was staring at the table as if he wanted to stab it with the fork he still held. Finally he cleared his throat and said in a slightly strangled voice: 'Right. Right. Yeah.'

Albus felt his own heart sink at this inadequate response, and he wasn't surprised when Hugo seemed to crumple beside him. His cousin kicked his chair back, muttered something about 'getting air', and marched out the room. As the door swung shut behind him, Lily turned to James, her expression vicious.

'Well done, James, absolutely Outstanding,' she snapped.

'Hey, don't attack me! It's not my fault I didn't know!'

'Oh, really? You're just so obtuse, aren't you, you've got about as much insight as Labrador!'

'You think so?' said James hotly. 'I've got enough insight to see you snogging boys in corridors!'

'James!' Lily screeched, her whole face crimson now as James gave her a smug smile. 'So suddenly you can be some judgemental arse, then, just because you've got a girlfriend!'

'Yeah, because I've got a girlfriend!'

'Oh fuck off!'

'Language, Lily,' said Ginny, apparently grasping at the chance to discipline over something. 'Is there anything else we should know about? Rose? Albus?'

'You already know about Albus' escapades,' said Rose flippantly, tossing her hair back. Albus felt any lingering remnants of regard he had for Rose disappear in that instant, as every head whipped around to look at Albus.

'Shut up Rose!' he said sharply. 'Why don't you talk about all the fun nighttime activities you and Daniel get up to? Didn't your roommates say you don't sleep in your dorm anymore?'

'Rose!' cried Hermione.

'Albus you bastard!' she cried. Daniel was staring determinedly at his plate. 'Fuck you!'

'Just call it my revenge!' said Albus, grinning venomously at her.

'Revenge for what?' asked Ron, clearly at a complete loss again.

'Oh don't you all realise? Albus and I hate each other! He hasn't spoken to me for weeks, he's acting like I'm a complete demon, and all I did was follow the rules! I caught Albus screwing about and I told the Headmistress, big deal! Albus was the one who had an affair with Professor Chang!' yelled Rose. Albus stood up so fast his chair fell back, pulling his wand from his pocket, but Hermione and Harry had jumped to their feet at the same moment.

'Rose, we need to talk,' said Hermione, grabbing her daughter by the wrist and dragging her to her feet.

'Ouch! Talk to me? Why?'

'Now!' roared Harry. For some reason, Harry's yell seemed to break the spell and they all fell silent. Rose allowed herself to be led from the room by Hermione, and Harry turned to them all. 'Stay here until we get back,' he said, before following them out.

'Fuck that,' muttered Albus. He couldn't stand to see them all staring at him, so despite his mother's protestation he kicked his fallen chair aside and marched over to the back door, wrenching it open and slamming it behind him.

It wasn't windy anymore, but the air was still damp and horribly chilly. Wishing he was wearing more than a cotton shirt, he stood shivering for a moment.

'Hi Albus.'

He jumped at the voice, which came from somewhere near his feet. Hugo was sat with his back against the wall of the house, pulling leaves from the wall ivy and shredding them in his fingers. He didn't look up as Albus stepped carefully over the straggling plants and sat down beside him on the frozen ground.

'Want to talk about it?'

'No.'

'Alright.'

A long pause stretched out between them, then Hugo glanced at him from under his fringe and said: 'So neither of our dating preferences make our parents happy, then.' There was a faint glimmer of a smile around his drawn mouth, and Albus grimaced.

'Ah, so you heard the aftermath of your departure.'

'Of course I did. I think Grandma and Grandpa probably heard it, all the way across the village. I think we do have to worry about it ending up in the _Prophet_ , because they'll have heard the shouting in their office in London. I think-'

'Shut up, Hugo.'

'Why? I'm only just getting started.'

'I know you are. But really do shut up, because I can hear our parents talking to your sister in the sitting room.'

They fell silent, and as they did Hermione's voice floated out from one of the sitting room windows, which had been left ajar:

'- and that's why it was just so immature of you, Rose! If you and Albus are having issues since the … incident, that's a problem but you can't deal with it by shouting like that.' Rose's reply was unintelligible, but a moment later Hermione continued: 'We'll be talking to Albus too, but I'm going to be honest with you were the one who lost control. Albus was immature - and I won't talk about what he said, I just hope you're being safe-.'

'Mum! Urgh, Merlin, stop being disgusting!' cried Rose, fully audible now. Hugo sniggered quietly.

'Let's move on from that,' said Albus' father's voice, hurriedly cutting across them. 'The issue here is about the fact you took something that was supposed to be a secret between us - that you'd expressly agreed to never speak about - and blurted it out. And you did that in front of two people who aren't even in the family, who could use that information against us.'

'Daniel and Lizzie? They'd never!'

'Maybe not now. But situations change. You or James might break up with them, and then they might decide to go to the papers about what you said. I'll need to speak to them both, directly…'

'So we're a family of secrets now, are we?' said Rose. Albus thought she sounded rather petulant, and was pleased when Hermione said:

'Rose, grow up and stop being so melodramatic. Every family has skeletons in their closets, the only difference with us is that we are prominent in the Wizarding World. I'm the Minister for Magic, I can't afford to have a scandal like what this would cause! So you need to think things through very carefully, and promise us - truthfully this time - that you will never speak what happened with Albus last term. If you don't think you can do that, we have a very difficult problem.'

'Fine. I promise. Really, I do. Can I go now?'

'Yes, go. Tell Daniel and Lizzie that we want to talk things through with them, too,' said Harry. He didn't sound like their father, Albus thought, but like the public Harry Potter, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, Chief Auror, etc. etc. He also sounded very tired.

There was a pause, in which Albus guessed Rose was leaving the room, and then Hermione spoke again. Her voice was much softer now, and he shifted slightly to try and hear better. 'Are you alright, Harry? This must all be a terrible strain on you…'

'I'm fine, Hermione.'

'You don't seem fine. Please, Harry, talk to me.'

'It seems like talking is the last thing we can do at the moment. I don't know … I never thought that it could be this difficult, Hermione. I thought that once they were sleeping through the night, things would ease up from then on out. And with Albus, I just worry about him so much. I'm trying to connect with him but I just don't know what to say, it's like we're speaking different languages. And then, last term…'

'Harry, he's sixteen. Granted, the incident with Chang was quite unusual, but he's just trying to work things out. His heart's in the right place. Give it time.'

'Thanks, Hermione.'

Albus felt Hugo's gaze on him, but he kept staring out across the greyish lawn. The emotions in his chest were so confused that he couldn't work out quite what he was feeling. Was he upset? Angry? Guilty? Or a whole mess of all of it?

What he did realise, however, is quite how cold he was. His shirt seemed to provide no protection at all, and he began to shiver uncontrollably.

'Come on, let's go to the Burrow,' he said to Hugo. 'Can't stand the idea of going back inside.'

'Won't they worry about where we've gone?' asked Hugo as they set off across the lawn.

Glancing over his shoulder, Albus checked that their footprints were clearly imprinted on the frosted lawn. 'I think we can trust that they'll work it out. Do you think Grandma will have baked anything today? I could murder one of her mince pies.'


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

 ** _Holiday Horror - Numerous Reported Casualties as Terrorists Strike Again in Muggle London_**

 _Once again, magical terrorists have attacked Muggles in a busy London street. Three linked explosions on Muggle Underground trains at Baker Street struck this morning, apparently targeting the large numbers of Muggles en-route to work or starting a day of Christmas shopping. Once again, no members of the Magical Community were hurt in the attack and due to this it is believed the attack was specifically designed to target Muggles, and was likely carried out by a blood purity fanatic, of the sort that supported You-Know-Who during the 20th century._

 _Ministry representatives arrived on the street moments after the attack, and reported a scene of "carnage and horror". Healers from St Mungo's were also brought in disguise, and have been attempting to aid the wounded despite being restricted by the Statute of Magical Secrecy._

 _'It's awful,' said Junior Healer Victoire Weasley, eldest daughter of war heroes Bill and Fleur Weasley, nee Delacour. 'So many people were hurt, and at such a terrible time too.'_

 _As many readers will have realised, this attack is particularly vicious as it struck just the day before Christmas Eve, when Muggles and the Wizarding Community alike are preparing to enjoy the holiday festivities. It bears marked similarities to the attack on Piccadilly Circus in November, but it is yet unknown whether this is a second act from the same attacker, or a copycat terrorist. Once again, the perpetrator escaped the scene and has so far evaded capture._

 _Minister for Magic Granger and Chief Auror Potter have both expressed their 'great sorrow' and 'strongest regret' that such an event has happened, but is that enough? Certainly both have been going through the usual rounds of visiting the site, aiding those working on the scene, and mobilising Ministry workers to attempt to deal with the situation, but still this vicious terrorist is at large. According to inside sources, only ten Aurors have been assigned to specifically search for this terrorist, a number that seems woefully lacking for a criminal of this nature._

 _As their own niece said, 'it's awful', and so far nothing has been achieved to stop the terrorist individual or group. How long will it take for the Ministry to achieve something meaningful? How many more Muggles have to die? And maybe next time, it won't just be Muggles._

The day-old newspaper sat yellowing on the kitchen cabinet at the Burrow, and Albus wondered why it hadn't been chucked away yet. It had caused enough arguments after all, and now it lay like a grim memento of the past day and a half. Beneath the headline, a large moving photograph of a blown-out train carriage billowing smoke flickered sickeningly. Leaning across, Albus picked it up with one hand and unfolded it, scanning the article that he already knew so well briefly before dropping it back into the same place.

It was Christmas Eve, and the Burrow was steadily filling up with family, although there was a tense and rather more somber atmosphere than usual, despite the vain efforts of some of the uncles to continue the festivities. Albus' father and his Aunt Hermione were both still at work, and had sent messages to say they'd likely be late to dinner and to not wait for them. Victoire had only just finished her shift and was looking almost grey with exhaustion, sat in an armchair while Teddy force-fed her eggnog.

No one had talked much about the incident at Baker Street. There'd been an unspoken agreement amongst the family to not talk about it, but for the moment when the newspaper article had landed on everyone's doorsteps. Albus had been sat, reading through one of his textbooks, when his father had strode into the sitting room with the newspaper in his hand.

'Look at this!'

Albus looked over the top of his book, instantly regretting his decision to read in the sitting room instead of his bedroom. Over in the corner, Lily looked up from her sketchbook and raised her eyebrows.

'Yes, Dad?'

'This article! Look at it! There's a tragedy going on in the Muggle world, and all they can do is put out bile,' said Harry, pushing his hand through his greying hair and making it even messier. 'And what does Victoire think she's doing, speaking to the press? I need to have a talk with her - she's made it look like we're all against each other!'

Albus and Lily both knew that their father had had about three hours sleep since the terrorist attack, and so they weren't quite sure what to say. In the end, they'd let him rant for a while, and then their mother had arrived and diffused the situation. But their father was clearly at the end of his tether, and it wasn't making for a relaxed Christmas. More than ever, Albus was ready to escape to Val d'Isole with his friends.

A few miles away, in Cambridgeshire, Scorpius was stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, checking that his new dress robes were straight and his hair wasn't out of place. His grandparents were coming for dinner, along with some other family friends, and he knew that he'd be berated for any untidiness in his appearance. As he carefully drew a comb through his hair - thinking all the while how much his friends would laugh if they saw him like this - his mother called him from the floor below.

The house itself was not the original Malfoy Manor - that was in Wiltshire, and the building itself had long since been sold off, sold again to Muggles, bulldozed by those Muggles who complained of feeling like the house was haunted, and rebuilt by them. Scorpius' father had bought the house when he'd married Scorpius' mother, and named it Malfoy Park. Scorpius' grandparents spent most of their time in a sprawling villa near the Pyrenees.

It was quite a large house, and his mother's voice was quite muffled, but his ears picked it up immediately and he hurried out of his bedroom. Nearly seventeen years of living in this house had given him a pinpoint-accurate sense of the layout of the house, and he knew immediately that his parents were in the Library.

Sure enough, they were sat side-by-side in two stiff old armchairs, a small table with a stack of old volumes between them. Neither of them spoke as Scorpius entered the room, and his footsteps were loud on the creaking wooden floor as he went over to sit on the sofa opposite them. His mother, as ever, was looking exceptionally poised. Her dark hair was pinned back off her face and her designer robes were arranged to flow perfectly over her body and drape her legs. His father, sat back in his armchair with his shoulders slightly hunched, still looked rather thin and exhausted after his ordeal in the autumn. He hadn't seemed to have done much since Scorpius had arrived home, spending most of his time in his study or taking the occasional short, slow walk about the grounds with his Crup, Archibald.

'Mother? Father?' Scorpius looked from one to the other. 'Is something wrong?'

'Scorpius, your grandparents will be arriving in about three quarters of an hour,' said his mother, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. 'And we think it would be best if we told you some news before they did. You can't tell anyone what we're about to tell you, though.'

Scorpius stared at them, his heart suddenly beating faster. What was it? Not another mishap with his father's work, he didn't think he could go through another saga of scandal and gossip and trials. As his mind began to frantically imagine horrible scenarios of his father returning to Azkaban, his mother spoke again.

'We've decided to get a divorce, Scorpius.'

Silence. He suddenly realised he'd been wrong. Scandal would be nothing compared to this. He felt as if he was on a ship, the sofa swaying unsteadily beneath him, and he found himself clutching the seat cushions tight as if they'd offer some sort of support. Trying to take deep breaths despite the tightness in his lungs, he looked up at his parents.

'But - but how? After everything that's happened? I thought it brought you two closer together, I thought that we were a proper family, how could you have stuck through everything that's just happened and now want a d-divorce?' he asked, trying not to stammer. His father hated it when he stammered. 'And why now? Why not when everything was going wrong in the autumn?'

'Well, if we'd divorced then it would've looked like it was because of the scandal, and that's just so common and trashy,' said his mother, sounding as if she was discussing nothing more than a difficult tea party. 'The thing is, Scorpius, we've been having trouble for rather a while. I agreed to help your father through his trial, but now that's over we're calling an end to it. I'm staying with my your aunt after Boxing Day, and I move to Paris in January.'

'To - Paris?' Scorpius croaked.

'Yes. I want a new start, and I've always loved Paris.'

Scorpius looked over at his father, who hadn't said a single word. He seemed to be in a world of his own, staring into the middle distance with the hooded gaze he'd developed since his stint in Azkaban. His left arm had a slight tremor, making his hand twitch a little.

'So … where will I live? Am I moving to Paris?' he asked, and he was surprised to find his voice was quite steady. It would be nice to live in France during the holidays. A change from the rural folds of Cambridgeshire.

'No, dear, of course we wouldn't do that to you! You can stay here, with your father.'

A fresh blow seemed to strike inside Scorpius' chest. Did his mother not want him? He loved his father, but ever since the arrest and trial he'd been a much different man, seeming embittered and raw with anger over what had happened. And he'd never been alone with him for longer than a day or two, the idea of it being just the two of them for weeks on end was positively terrifying.

When he thought about it afterwards, Scorpius wasn't quite sure how he made it through the next few days in Malfoy Park. He remembered replying when people asked him questions, eating normally, opening his Christmas presents and showing the correct level of enthusiasm at each expensive gift, but it all felt rather like someone else had been controlling him, pulling strings this way and that, and he'd merely been watching it all happen. He couldn't wait to escape to Val d'Isole, but a part of him also dreaded it. How could he keep his parents' imminent divorce a secret?

His mother left the day before he did. He'd been dreading her departure all through Christmas, wondering how he was supposed to keep his stoic composure as he said goodbye to her. As he lay in bed, pretending he was falling asleep, his mind imagined all the tiny details of what it would be like. She'd wear her blue travelling cloak, the one with the silver fur collar, and her best silver day robes with it - he knew that she'd want to look her best when she arrived at her sister's. It would be difficult enough to arrive with a failed marriage behind her, let alone the humiliation of not looking perfectly beautiful.

They rarely embraced each other, but he thought that just this time she would, placing her arms around him and lightly touching his hair. She always had the same recognisable scent on, one of flowers that he'd probably recognise quite easily if he'd ever been remotely interested in that sort of thing. Now he wished he had found out what the flowers were. It was always in a crystal bottle on her dresser with a gold stopper shaped like a closed bud, and when he was little just the smell of it would calm him down.

As it was, he knew that something was different the moment he opened his eyes that morning. His bedroom was quite the same, of course; the birds that nested in the tree outside his window were singing just like they always did. But in his heart, he knew it was not the same house. Slowly, as if to delay proving what he already felt to be true, he pushed back his coverlet and sat up.

He didn't dress, merely pulled on a sweater to ward off the chill in the draughty house, and padded barefoot out onto the landing. The house felt too quiet, too still. Resting a hand on the banister, he started down the stairs. His mother's suitcases weren't in the hallway, but perhaps they'd been sent on ahead, to make things easier. He padded down the last few steps, and opened the door of the cupboard in the hallway where they kept all their travelling cloaks. His mother's weren't there.

Despite the fact he already knew she wasn't there, he found himself going to every room in the house, opening the doors and standing looking in for a moment, each time with just the tiniest hope and expectation that he'd see her there. She'd be standing at the window or reading a book, and she'd turn and give him a rare smile, and tell him how sorry she was to be leaving him and how she'd miss him more than anything else in the world.

But the rooms were still and empty, and finally he was left with only her dressing room. It was next door to the master bedroom, and he paused for a little longer at the door of this room before turning the doorknob. The blinds were still drawn, giving everything in the room a dim rose-gold hue. His footsteps muffled on the thick carpet, he went over to the vanity table, now cleared of everything but a vase of wilting lilies and carnations, and ran his fingers over the smooth wooden surface. The perfume bottle was gone of course. The room still smelled slightly of that scent, the air heavy with the ghost of his mother's presence.

The wardrobe was empty, the wooden hangers rattling against each other as he opened the doors. The scent was stronger here, her clothes had permeated it into the wood, and without thinking he climbed inside, pulling the doors shut and sitting tight against the back wall. In the darkness, breathing in the heady smell of his mother, he could almost imagine that she'd never left at all, if it wasn't for the gentle rattle of the empty hangers above his head.

Val d'Isole was a charming town, nestled between two sheer sides of the mountain valley, with wooded slopes and broad stretches of thick snow. The houses were built in the usual fashion of the Alps, low and wooden with broad covered balconies stretching right around them. It wasn't a very large village, perhaps a couple dozen houses or so, but at this time of year every window seemed alight and the sound of music and voices drifted onto the street at all hours.

There were heavy drifts of snow all about the town, but the main street had been cleared but for the light dusting that had fallen that day. A few flakes were still drifting down from the heavy grey-white clouds when Albus arrived, settling on the shoulders of his thick travelling cloak and melting into his hair. He pulled his collar close around his neck and set off down the street, his bag held tight in his hand. As he passed one house, the noise of a dinner party became sudden raucous laughter, and then just as quickly faded back to muffled chatter.

The Zabini's chalet was at the further end of the street. It was slightly taller than the other houses, its gable visible with its heavy cloak of snow, and as Albus approached he heard the sound of someone's voice midway through what was clearly supposed to be a very amusing anecdote. He thought it was Fitzroy, from the pitch and intonation.

It was definitely chilly now, and he hurried up the front path and knocked quickly, the muffled thud of his gloved fist echoing inside. A brief pause, and then the door swung open and he saw Zabini, stood with a rare smile on his lips. 'Potter! Come on inside, you look freezing.'

His skin tingled sharply as he stepped into the hallway and warmth washed over him, as sudden as if he'd just opened an oven. Zabini, never one to hang about and fuss over guests, had already returned to the others in the sitting room, and Albus quickly hung up his cloak and gloves and followed him.

Although called the sitting room, that name didn't quite encompass the extent of it. The hallway was quite narrow, filled mainly by the carved wooden staircase, but one stepped through a doorway and the whole ground floor opened out in one gigantic open-plan room. At the far end, there was the kitchen and a dining table placed before a floor-to-ceiling glass window that, during the daytime, gave beautiful views of the surrounding mountain valley. Then there was a pool table and well-equipped bar, and at nearest end, a set of sofas around a fireplace large enough for a grown man to stand in comfortably.

As Albus had suspected, Fitzroy was stood in the centre of the group, a glass of Prosecco in his hand as he exclaimed a story to the others, who were all ranged about the sofas and armchairs. At Albus' entrance, he stopped and hailed him, and the others murmured a chorus of their own greetings.

'Potter, get yourself a drink,' said Vittoria in a rather imperious voice. She was sat close beside a tall, fair-featured blond boy that Albus didn't recognise. He supposed the boy must be another rich resident of Val d'Isole, perhaps a Scandinavian or German who attended Durmstrang. There were a few others that didn't go to Hogwarts - three girls that were almost identical and looked very Italian, a Hispanic boy and girl, and another boy who stared about with an even more disdainful expression than Albus' own friends had. Everyone else - the Zabinis, Fitzroy, Langwith, Adelaide Grey and Scorpius, of course were all friends.

It took Albus a moment to notice Scorpius, and to his great surprise his friend hadn't acknowledged him any more than the slightest nod in his direction. He was sat on the furthest sofa, and his gaze was now firmly fixed on the glowing embers of the fire. Albus fixed himself a Firewhisky on ice, and went to sit down beside him.

'Hi, Albus.' Scorpius' voice was a dull monotone, and he carried on staring at the fireplace, the flames reflected on his grey eyes. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Albus knew that something was very wrong with his friend. He wondered what on earth could be worse than the ordeal Scorpius went through last term.

The evening quickly progressed to more drinking, and then smoking and snorting and drinking, and soon Albus found himself lying in a vague stupor, the taste of whisky on his tongue as his eyes itched and strange, psychedelic thoughts drifted through his mind. He was only brought back to reality by a sudden bang and shout, and a lot of yelling.

Sitting up, one hand on his forehead, he looked over the back of the sofa and saw suddenly quite clearly that Scorpius was stood bent over the pool table, his pale blond hair dishevelled and his face very red. He was holding something down on the table, as everyone else stood about in a clamour, and after a moment Albus realised it was the Spanish boy.

Leaping up despite his nausea, Albus hurried over and grasped Scorpius by the shoulder, wrenching him backwards off the boy who gasped and coughed. Seizing Albus with a frightening force, Scorpius turned on him, one hand on his collar as the other reached into the pocket where he kept his wand. He was quite unrecognisable, his face a twisted mask as his bloodshot eyes glared at Albus.

'Scorpius!' he gasped, grabbing him by the wrist. 'It's me! Stop!'

There was a pause, in which the whole world seemed suspended for a moment, and then Scorpius let out a deep, shuddering breath and let go of Albus, who stumbled back into Zabini. There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of the door slamming as Scorpius strode outside and slammed the door.

The others were exchanging looks, but Albus ignored them all and hurried after his friend. The snow was falling heavier now, and for a moment he thought Scorpius had disappeared completely, until he spotted a dark shape striding a few metres away. Forcing his way through the deepening snow, Albus ran to catch up with his friend, who didn't look around as he came up behind him.

'Scorpius. Scorpius! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, SCORPIUS!' roared Albus, as a sudden gust of wind blew snow straight into his face. Scorpius stopped, and allowed Albus to catch up and look him in the face. Shivering uncontrollably now, Albus struggled to get his words out: 'W-What d-d-did we p-promise, at th-the end of l-last t-t-term? We said we'd-d al-always tell each other w-what was wrong. We wouldn't k-keep s-s-secrets.'

Scorpius was staring past him, out into the dark expanse of the mountainside behind. Finally he spoke, and his voice was deadened, emotionless. 'My parents have divorced. My mother left yesterday.'

'Merlin - Scorpius I … I'm…'

'Don't,' snapped Scorpius, turning away now. 'Don't say any of it. Just shut up, alright? There's nothing you can say to make this better, nothing! She's gone. Like it was nothing, like they thought I wouldn't care, they just went and - after everything that's happened - they just - FUCK!'

Quickly, Albus transfigured some snow into a large bat, and Scorpius grasped it and launched himself at a nearby house. There were some thick icicles hanging from the eaves almost to the snow, and he tore at them, sending shards of ice everywhere as he smashed each and every one of them, first with the bat and then with his fists. Finally, the icicles were nothing but a pile of ice, and Scorpius was doubled over, his bleeding hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

'She didn't even say goodbye, Albus,' he said, and his voice cracked. 'She didn't-.'

Albus stepped forward and grabbed his friend, pulling him into an embrace. They were both cold, and wet, and shivering, but they held each other in the swirling blizzard as Scorpius shook and sobbed and howled on Albus.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

 _The room was filled with flowers, vase after vase of lilies and carnations that wilted and dropped petals across the surfaces and carpet, their thick, heady scent filling the warm room. It was his mother's dressing room, he knew that, and he stood with his arms outstretched, his fingers trailing over the flowers. He was wrong - he'd been dreaming. She was still here, still with him. Any moment now she'd walk through the door, and she'd be there._

 _At the click of the door handle he turned, his heart racing, a smile already on his face as he took a step forward, reaching out with one hand to the figure stepping through into the room. Only it wasn't his mother._

 _His father stood, no longer bent and broken but as tall as he'd been when the boy was a child, a towering giant of black robes and silver hair. He still grasped the same silver-headed cane in his left hand, as the right pointed a shaky finger at him. 'You!'_

 _He opened his mouth to reply, but his voice had left him, he could only stare in wordless terror as his father advanced on him. 'You! You! You drove her away! She left because of you! You will never see her again!' He raised the cane above his head, and the boy cowered, shielding his head from the oncoming blow._

The Hogwarts Express jolted around a corner, and Scorpius woke suddenly as his head hit the window. Blinking in the light, disorientated, he ran a hand over his face. It took a few seconds for the dream to fade, drift back in his mind, and for reality to settle over him. The others hadn't seemed to notice his nightmare, although he had a feeling that Albus had been watching him. He was very focussed on the game that Fitzroy and Langwith were playing, and Scorpius knew that it wouldn't be very interesting for him.

Rubbing his eyes again, Scorpius turned to look outside the window. It was dark already, the Cumbrian hillsides just a dark, snowy mass beyond the window. They'd been on the Hogwarts Express for several hours, and he'd spent most of it drifting in and out of sleep, always with the same dream.

He felt weak and ill, as if he'd recently recovered from flu, but he couldn't stomach any of the food that the others had ordered. In the end, he reached into his bag and quietly poured himself a glass of whisky - he had a bottle Albus had given him for Christmas. No one took any notice of this - they were drinking as well - and after a few sips his insides seemed to settle more, and he was able to feel a little calmer. He finished the glass, and poured himself another, taking this one more slowly as he stared out of the dark window.

He was on his way down to the dungeons after the Start-of-Term Feast, pretending to listen to the conversation Vittoria and Adelaide were having, when Professor Flint loomed ahead of them. Scorpius ducked his head and stared at the ground, but the next thing he knew a meaty hand had caught him by the shoulder and stopped him.

'Go on ahead Potter, Grey, I just need to exchange a few words with Malfoy here,' said Flint steadily, and the others carried on. Scorpius knew that Flint was looking at him, and stared resolutely at the opposite wall. 'I'm sorry to hear about your parents, Malfoy. It's a shame, it always is. Are you alright?'

Scorpius did look up now, forcing himself to stare directly into Flint's eyes. 'Of course, sir.'

Flint nodded. 'Alright. If you're sure there's nothing you want to talk about. Go on, now.'

'Thank you, sir.' He hurried on, again feeling as though Flint's eyes were boring into the back of his skull.

In the future, when he thought back to that period after the Christmas holidays of his Sixth Year, if anyone had asked what he'd done Scorpius wouldn't have been able to give an answer. He went to lessons, attended Quidditch practice, ate meals, that much he knew but not a single moment stuck in his mind. The only sensation that seemed real to him was the numbness. At least that was better than the ragged, tearing ache that came otherwise.

He'd found after that train ride back to school that whisky was particularly good at bringing on the numbness. And after the first confused, painful day of lessons he took to carrying a hipflask around in the pocket of his robes. He didn't drink much from it, he made sure of that, just the odd sip whenever the ache threatened to make an occurrence.

Albus was worried about him, Scorpius knew that. His best friend seemed to be by his side even more than usual, finding an excuse to follow him as much as he could. Scorpius appreciated that Albus was just trying to look out for him, and after the escapade in Val d'Isole he wasn't even surprised, but that didn't stop him from getting vaguely frustrated whenever Albus popped up unexpectedly. And when Albus appeared for apparently no reason while Scorpius was using the urinal, he couldn't help but snap at him:

'Will you give it a rest?'

'Give what a rest?' asked Albus, washing his hands for an exaggeratedly long time.

'Just - give me some space, alright?'

The workload was getting heavier as well, and although Scorpius was dying for distractions from his thoughts he found himself unable to focus. Sitting with books and parchment left too much space in his head, allowed other thoughts to creep in amongst the definitions and dates and incantations that he had to learn. Instead he threw himself into Quidditch practice, and ignored the fact that his grades were slipping.

One evening, perhaps a fortnight after the start of term, Scorpius found himself sat on the edge of his bed going through his trunk. He'd emptied his hipflask that day during dinner, and he was trying to find another bottle to fill it up with. It was strange - he was quite sure he'd come with several bottles in his trunk, but they all seemed to have disappeared. His hands rifled through robes, books, quills, and then finally a fingertip brushed over glass and he grasped it eagerly, but it was merely a bottle of pumpkin juice.

He dropped it in disgust, wondering why he'd ever bothered to pack a soft drink, and ran his fingers through his hair, pressing his fingertips against his temple. A headache was developing along with the now-familiar ache in his chest. Rubbing the heels of his palms in his eyes, he sat staring into dark for a few seconds, and then looked around the dormitory.

It was empty but for a sleeping Zabini and Albus, who was sat on his own bed with a book propped on his knees, his fingers absent-mindedly twirling a quill between them. Scorpius took a deep breath, and said as casually as he could muster with the growing migraine:

'Hey - Albus. You brought Firewhisky, right?'

'Yes.'

'You don't think i could buy a bottle of you, could I?'

Albus looked up, frowning at him. 'You want to buy a bottle of Firewhisky?'

'Yeah, please.'

'I know what you buy. You buy tobacco the whole time, Salamander Vodka before parties, and powders if you want a buzz. But you've got a whole pack of tobacco and the next party isn't until next week, so what do you want Firewhisky for?'

'Why do you care?'

'I don't, it's just weird. I've got to keep track of where my stocks are going, it's part of the responsibility.'

'I'm your best mate, Albus, you don't need to track me!'

'I don't discriminate…'

'Albus, stop being such a pedant and sell me the Firewhisky!' snapped Scorpius, unable to hold back his anger.

'No!' retorted Albus, clearly angry as well now. 'Not until you give me a proper reason why you want it. Are you giving it to someone?'

'Yes.'

'Who?'

'My - my father. I forgot to get him a Christmas present.'

'You told me your father doesn't drink, hasn't for years.'

'Oh for Merlin's sake, Albus, don't you trust me?'

'No!' exclaimed Albus, and suddenly they were both on their feet. 'Not in your current state of mind. Your parents are divorcing, your mother's left, it's all traumatic and it means no I don't want to sell you alcohol!'

'Fuck off!' roared Scorpius, and he lashed out. Albus dodged but Scorpius struck the nearest wood poster of his bed instead. Ignoring the sudden pain in his fist, Scorpius turned away from his friend.

'I'm going to go out for a while, Scorpius,' said Albus in a low voice. 'Let's talk when I get back.'

Scorpius didn't move, and a moment later there was the sound of the door opening and shutting. Allowing himself to clutch his bruised hand now, Scorpius threw himself onto his bed, muffling his yell in his pillow.

'What's going on?' mumbled Fitzroy. Scorpius stayed facedown in his pillow, and a few seconds later Fitzroy began to gently snore again. After counting to fifteen, Scorpius rolled over onto his back, and stared up at the canopy above him. He felt sick again, his tongue dry and sticky. Something sharp had poked against his chest as he'd lain on the bed, and he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out folded parchment.

He knew what it was - he'd already stared at it too many times to count. He'd tried to write a letter to his mother, but it was impossible to put how he was feeling into words and the whole letter just felt vapid, fake. He'd been carrying it about for days, telling himself he'd post it and even once starting towards the Owlery, but as always he stopped and turned back. Anyway, his mother hadn't written to him.

The parchment was becoming thin, the creases weak, but he unfolded it anyway, holding it as lightly as he could in his fingertips. The first line swam in front of his eyes: ' _Dear Mother_.' Suddenly his slanted handwriting disappeared into a blur and he shut his eyes tight, waiting until the tears that the dusty canopy and his thirst must've caused had subsided.

 _Dear Mother,_

 _I hope you're enjoying Paris. I'm sure it's lovely there at this time of year. Hogwarts is bitterly cold, as it always is in January, but those fur-lined gloves you gave me for Christmas are keeping the chill off. Some of the other students get so cold they can't even hold their wands properly._

 _Val d'Isole was beautiful as well, it snowed on-and-off all week. Will you go this year?_

 _I can't say much in a letter, and anyway I'm in a bit of rush to finish this. I've got Prefect duties soon. But I thought I'd write, and tell you how I am. Will you reply? I'd like to hear how you are in Paris, if you get the time. It feels odd that we didn't see each other on the 30th, but i'm sure you had to head off too quickly for goodbyes._

 _I guess that's all for now. Write soon._

 _Love,_

 _Scorpius._

He folded the letter up again, but kept it held between his fingers. It was stupid. The letter said nothing - but how could he tell her the truth? How could he tell her how he was really feeling, how her departure had left a ragged wound in his chest that never seemed to heal, only got wider and more raw. You couldn't translate that into words, it wasn't possible. So he'd written a letter so vague and vapid it was almost a lie.

Closing his eyes, he lay in the dark for a few seconds, and then slowly closed his hand in a fist around the parchment, crumpling it easily into a ball. There were still embers burning in the grate of the dormitory fireplace, and he sat up, slowly and deliberately, and walked to the hearth. Without pausing to think, he threw the crumpled ball into the middle of the burning embers, and with a poker stirred the ash until flames burst across the parchment. Then he turned away and went over to Fitzroy's bed. Fitzroy was soundly asleep, sprawled across the top of his covers, and hardly stirred as Scorpius went under his bed and grabbed one of the many half-drunk bottles. It was cheap vodka, but that was better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, he drank until hardly a quarter of the liquid was left, and then stashed the vodka back under Fitzroy's bed. The boy would never notice anything was different.

During all of this, Rose had been quite oblivious to any drama in Slytherin House; she'd been cut off from almost all communication with Slytherins after the Professor Chang debacle, and anyway she had her own issues to deal with. Her mother hadn't said anything about the case with the terrorist attacks, but Rose knew enough to figure that the Ministry was under a lot of pressure. And all of it would be on the shoulders of her mother and her Uncle Harry. She rather wished she could help them out, but they'd both insisted that she was too young to get involved with anything like that, and anyway she should be focussing on her studies. It was a bit hypocritical in her eyes, as they were off fighting Voldemort at her age.

A few weeks after the Christmas holidays, she was lounging on one of the sofas in the Gryffindor tower, her legs across Daniel's lap and an essay on her knees, when she suddenly felt someone's presence at her side. Looking up, she found Lily stood by the sofa, a familiar look of determination on her face.

'Hi Lils,' she said, smiling at her. 'You after something?'

'Yes,' said Lily, crossing her arms. 'I want you to go talk to Albus.'

Rose stared at her - she had no idea that Lily was so involved in the issue. But she realised that of course Lily would find it difficult to have her and Albus at loggerheads with each other.

'What's brought this on all of a sudden?' she asked, setting her essay aside with only the faintest regret.

'Nothing much, I just think that you two have been acting far too immature for far too long, and you need to stop being such idiots!'

'Lily, it's complicated,' started Rose, but Lily interrupted her.

'No, it's not. I know the whole story now, and you're both in the wrong and you're both being selfish. So will you promise at least talk to Albus?'

Lily had always been known for the ferocity of her stare, and Rose found herself feeling the full force of it as she looked up at her younger cousin. 'Fine. I'll talk to Albus.'

'And you'll sort things out?'

'I said I'd talk to him, Lily, don't push it,' snapped Rose.

'Okay!' Lily grinned and tossed her hair back, almost bouncing across the room to where her friends were sat. Rose picked up her essay again and began to write again, but she'd hardly managed three words before Daniel spoke.

'You're really going to go talk to your cousin? And sort things out?'

She glanced at him from over the essay. He hadn't looked around at her, but his brow was so furrowed he was almost scowling. 'Well … I would like to fix things with Albus. He is my cousin after all, and it's been weird not talking to him.'

'But you always argue with each other.'

'That's because we're cousins! Anyway, it's more Scorpius Malfoy that I argue with, Albus doesn't like needless confrontation.'

'Yeah, Malfoy's not great either,' muttered Daniel. Rose narrowed her eyes at him.

'What do you mean, "Malfoy's not great either"? Why does he come into the equation? And what's with 'either' - do you not like Albus?'

'Rose, is it at all possible for us to talk without you tearing apart every word I say?' he snapped, his voice suddenly vicious. 'And no, I don't like your cousin, or that Malfoy kid. They're not like us, they get up to trouble the whole time, and frankly I've enjoyed not having them about.'

'How dare you!' cried Rose, loud enough that several people looked around curiously. She forced herself to lower her voice. 'For starters, that's my cousin you're talking about, and secondly it's my decision who I choose to spend time with, not yours! What's your bias against them, anyway? I don't think you've ever had a full conversation with Albus, let alone Scorpius!'

'Well of course I wouldn't! They're not exactly the sort of person I want to hang out with, belonging to that pack of serpents and all,' said Daniel, and she'd never heard such malice in his voice.

'If that's what you think, I don't think I have anything to say to you,' she said coldly, hoping that the disgust she felt dripped from every word. He looked at her, and his expression seemed to change suddenly, and he grabbed hold of her ankles, still stretched across his lap.

'Rosie, wait.'

'Let me go,' she hissed, wrenching her legs out of his grasp. 'If I didn't know you better, I don't think I'd ever speak to you again.'

She grabbed her essay and schoolbag and marched out the Common Room. It was only about eight in the evening, but she refused to leave her dormitory in case Daniel was still downstairs. Instead, she spent several hours sat on her bed attempting to read but actually fuming. How _dare_ he try to dictate whether she could be friends with Albus? He was her cousin! And anyway, it was her choice what she did.

She was so angry that it kept her up through the night, the argument replaying in her head on a seemingly constant loop until finally she drifted off into an uneasy, confused sleep. The next morning she woke late and dressed hurriedly, dashing into the Great Hall just in time to pick up some toast before heading to her first lesson, Transfiguration.

Much of the class was already inside the classroom when she arrived, spread about in their various groupings and cliques. Albus was instantly noticeable, sat amongst the other lounging, detached Slytherins. She paused for a moment, suddenly a little apprehensive at the idea of going over to this undeniably intimidating group, and then forced herself to walk up to them. They turned and stared at her, sculpted eyebrows raised as half a dozen pairs of eyes looked her over. Albus faced her, but said nothing.

'Albus,' she said, staring him down. 'I want to talk to you. Alone, if that's alright.'

'What about?' he asked, casually cleaning underneath one nail with the point of a quill.

'Will you just talk to me?'

He shrugged, and then put down the quill and stood up, extracting himself from the others and walking over to a corner of the classroom. Rose followed, and the others watched the two of them go. As he stopped and turned to look at her, Rose noticed how pale he was, how dark the shadows between his eyes had become. She wondered if he was taking care of himself.

'Well?' he asked, looking at her expectantly.

'I want to call a truce. On - on our argument. Can we just apologise to each other and move on?'

He didn't reply for a few seconds, the silence stretching out between them, and then Albus shrugged.

'I suppose we are family. We should be able to sort these things out,' he said.

'Yes, we should,' she said. 'I'm sorry for the way I reacted to you … you and Chang. I maybe didn't go about it the right way.'

'And I guess I'm sorry that I was so harsh on you for it. And for telling your parents that you and Daniel were sleeping together,' he said, scuffing the floor with his toe.

'That did lead to a horrifically awkward conversation with my mother and father,' she said, shuddering slightly at the memory. Albus looked up at her, and she saw the hint of a smile playing about his lips. 'So are we alright.'

'Think so. But Rose,' he said, catching her arm. 'You have to make me one promise.'

'What?'

'You have to swear to never tell on me like that again. You have to be on my side, alright? Otherwise we're not family.'

'But Albus -'

'I'm not saying I'll ever incriminate you or get you into trouble. But you just have to promise to always be on my side.'

'Alright. I promise.'

Rose rejoined her friends, and the lesson passed fairly uneventfully apart from when Jemima Begbroke transfigured her nose into a duck's. It was an unusually nice day, which meant that even though it was still bitterly cold they were all ushered outside and left to shiver in the courtyards through the break time. Rose had taken to carrying a jam-jar about with her at all times in winter, as her mother had taught her the trick of casting bluebell-coloured flames.

She was just producing the jam jar and her wand when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Glancing around, she saw Daniel stood behind her, looking extremely sheepish. She quickly cast the flames into the jam jar and handed it to a friend before walking a few paces away with Daniel.

'I'm sorry,' he burst out as soon as they were out of earshot. 'I shouldn't have reacted like that about Albus, he is your cousin, I was an idiot.'

'It's alright,' she sighed, looking past him into the middle distance. He caught her gently by the cheek so she looked him in the eye.

'I really am sorry,' he said. 'I just feel so protective over you, I can't help it sometimes.'

'You don't need to protect me,' she said. 'Certainly not like that.'

'I know,' he said, and he looked so crestfallen and sad that she couldn't help but smile a little. She kissed him gently on the lips. 'So are we good?'

'We're good.'

January drew to a close, and with it passed Scorpius' seventeenth birthday. Scorpius had never been particularly excited by his birthday - he was always secretly jealous of the effort that Albus' parents always put into celebrating his - and this year wasn't much different. True, the presents that he received were particularly handsome, especially the engraved wristwatch he received - silver, with a black leather strap - but he was quite sure that his father's personal assistant had written the card attached, although she was very good at imitating his handwriting. His mother sent an expensive writing set, complete with quills and four different types of ink, but in an ironic turn wrote a very brief letter that said little more than just 'Happy Birthday'. His friends celebrated the day in the usual fashion, of all of them getting paralytically drunk, and the next morning he woke up with a sense that it had been a rather anticlimactic event.

Another Quidditch match was looming on the horizon, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, and the usual currents of excitement were running through the school at the prospect. For Scorpius, it was a welcome diversion. Zachary Bowles was calling more practices than ever, and when he was pushing himself to the limits he found he wasn't thinking about his home life. He was still drinking, but he knew that that was only temporary, and anyway the physical exertion of the sport balanced it out.

In fact, Quidditch had made him feel so much better that he found himself walking up to the Owlery on the morning of the match with some parchment and the resolve to write to his parents. He'd heard nothing at all about the divorce, and he'd decided on impulse to just write to them. It was the early morning, and a heavy fog hung over the school. The Owlery was damp and musty, and filled with the sound of the owls sleepily shifting on their perches to try and keep warm.

Pulling his cloak tighter around his body, he leant against the windowsill of the Owlery and penned two letters, one to his father and one to his mother. They were almost identical - asking about the divorce, and filling in the gaps with some small talk to make it seem like he wasn't too invested. Rolling up the letters, he pinned one to the leg of his owl, Ignatius, and one to the leg of a school owl, and then carried them both to the window. Leaning against the cold stone, he watched until they'd both disappeared into the shadowy fog.

Once he was sure they were gone, he straightened up and prepared to go, but as he stepped towards the door it opened from the other side, and he almost walked straight into Rose Weasley. She was carrying a letter in her hand, and looked just as shocked to see him as he felt. It was hardly a fortnight since she'd resolved things with Albus, and he wasn't quite sure what their footing was.

Rose seemed to be in a friendly mood, however, and almost smiled at him. 'Hello, Malfoy. What're you up to here so early?'

'Writing a letter. What did you think I was doing, owl-whispering? Practicing interpretive dance?' he retorted. She rolled her eyes at him, and went over to a smart barn owl on a nearby perch. 'And I guess you're here to practice dancing too?'

'Alright, alright, it was a silly question. Why do you always have to be so sarcastic?' she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow. He shrugged, sweeping a hand through his hair.

'I guess it's just my natural angsty demeanour.'

'Of course,' she took the owl to the window and threw it out so it followed the two Scorpius had sent, and then turned to face him. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she glanced over him. 'Are you alright, Malfoy? You're looking all peaky.'

'Yes, I'm fine,' he said in a curt voice, turning away from her and sweeping out of the room. 'Good day, Weasley.'

He went to the match with his team and their usual escort of friends and admirers, all heading in a green and silver stream down the lawn to the pitch. The match was always expected to be a success, but after their loss against Gryffindor they had to do extremely well to stay in the running. Scorpius found himself playing better than he had for a long time; the Quaffle seemed magnetised to his hands, and whenever he threw it, it went in a perfect arc exactly where he was aiming. By the time Fitzroy caught the whistle he'd scored six times, and the final score was 380 to 50.

Landing amid a storm of cheers, Scorpius embraced his teammates and started towards the edge of the pitch, ready to be born back up to the castle for a truly riotous night. He was stopped, however, by Professor Flint as he left the pitch.

'Scorpius, your father's here and he wants to see you. He's just through that door.'

He didn't think it was possible for his chest to expand with joy any more, as he left his teammates and hurried in the direction that Flint was indicating. His father had come to watch the match! He hadn't come for ages, even for the finals he almost always said he was too busy with work. What had changed his mind this time? Had he received Scorpius' letter already, and decided to come pay him some attention?

He reached the door and pushed it open. The room inside was a small, bare space built into the stands of the pitch and presumably meant for any emergency medical care that couldn't wait until the castle. His father was stood with his back to him when he entered.

'Father! It's so good to see you - what did you think of the match? Did you see my second goal, where I scored even though I'd just dodged a Bludger? Bowles said it was the best he'd seen in a -'

He fell silent. His father had turned to look at him, and his expression made a weight drop into Scorpius' stomach. It was more than angry, more than disappointed. There was something almost malevolent about the stare he gave him.

'Father?'

'I received your letter this morning,' he said, and he pulled it from his pocket. It looked a little battered now, as if it had been held too tightly in a fist. 'And I thought I'd come to ask what the hell was going through your mind?'

'You … you didn't come about the match?'

'No you idiot boy!' roared his father, taking a step towards him. 'I don't care about your silly little matches! I care about you betraying me, betraying the Malfoy name!'

'I - I didn't!'

'Don't talk back to me! It's here in writing, isn't it? You, asking me, bold as brass, whether there'd be custody arrangements for you regarding your mother? How dare you! You'll be staying with me, not that bitch!'

'But she's my-'

'I don't care what she is, she's a filthy, traitorous woman and you'll have nothing to do with her, understand? Nothing!' His father was shaking now, spots of red burning on his white cheeks, and he stepped closer again to grab Scorpius by the robes. 'I saw you didn't send your owl with this letter. Why's that, eh? You wouldn't be writing to someone else, would you?'

He grabbed Scorpius by the jaw, his bony fingers pressing into his cheeks. His bloodshot eyes were positively demented, and Scorpius could hardly recognise him. This wasn't his father, this wasn't even the man he'd seen during the trial, this was a madman.

'You wouldn't be writing to your mother, boy?'

Scorpius didn't reply, but that seemed to answer his father's question. With a roar of fury, he flung Scorpius away from him and struck him hard across the face. Involuntarily, Scorpius cried out and shielded himself from his father, almost cowering against the wall.

The three knocks came as shockingly as if there'd been a fanfare. Both of them froze, turning to look at the door, and then without a word straightened themselves and smoothed their expressions. Scorpius' father opened the door. Professor Longbottom, the affable and friendly Herbology teacher, was stood on the other side.

'Hello - I heard some yells and thought I'd just make sure everything was alright,' he said, smiling jovially at them both.

'Yes, everything is fine. I am just speaking to my son about … about the match,' said Scorpius' father stiffly.

'Ah, yes, well Scorpius played excellently. Brilliant second goal there, just brilliant. Surely you'll be wanting to get to a victory party, Scorpius?' said Longbottom.

Scorpius glanced at him, and nodded. He was scared to make eye contact, worried that Longbottom would see the truth if he did. 'I suppose so, sir.'

'Yes, I need to get back for business,' said his father. He grasped him by the shoulder, his grip painfully tight. 'Remember what we spoke about, son. I'll see you soon.' Sweeping past them, he strode out of sight.

'Are you sure you're alright, Scorpius?' asked Longbottom, but Scorpius was already moving past him in the opposite direction and hurried out of the pitch before he'd even finished the sentence.

Back in the Slytherin Dungeons, the party was already in full swing. Albus had clearly done a good trade, as alcohol covered the surfaces, along with a lot of other less savoury substances. At Scorpius' entry a loud cheer erupted, and he was dragged forward by a crowd of admirers. His first impulse was to run from it, to go and hide in his bedroom and drink himself to sleep in solitude. But someone, probably Langwith or Zabini, shoved a drink into his hand and he found himself downing it in one. That incited another cheer, and another drink was given to him.

He drank with an enthusiasm bordering on aggression, each mouthful dulling a minutiae of the raw and agonising pain that had opened up again inside his chest. He drank until the world blurred around him and he couldn't remember exactly what it was that his father had been angry about. He drank until it was almost funny that his father had struck him. The alcohol went down easier each time, and each time he felt a little less painful.

Time didn't seem to be moving quite right, but he found himself sat in one of the smaller anterooms of the dungeons, hunched over as the floor spun on a pivot between his feet. Someone's hand was on his shoulder, and he heard a voice say:

'You alright, mate?'

'Y-Yearghh.'

A chuckle of laughter. 'Here, have this. It'll perk you right up again.'

The hand left his shoulder, and someone poured out some purplish-tinged powder onto the coffee table and cut it into a line. Scorpius fumbled for the tube they handed him and clumsily he placed one end in his nostril and snorted the powder. It seemed to hit the back of his brain like a lightning bolt; suddenly the whole world, from each grain of wood to every dust mote that caught the flickering light, was perfectly visible to him. His body was shaking slightly as his mind shot through a thousand thoughts simultaneously. It was the most incredible feeling he'd ever experienced, that glorious clarity.

He noticed, amidst this, that his body was still shaking. His mind felt disconnected from his limbs, caught up with the ideas that filled his head, but he managed to force himself to look down at his hands. They were shaking, he wasn't imagining it, and now he noticed it his legs and arms were twitching too, spasming.

Voices crashed about his ears but he couldn't understand what they were saying, even as an unfamiliar face loomed in front of him, mouthing something. There was a metallic taste in his mouth and something hot and wet was dribbling down his face from his nose and eyes.

Albus heard the commotion from the next room; he was fairly intoxicated, sprawled on the floor with two girls and Langwith, but something in the shouting made him worried and he jumped to his feet. Moving as quickly as he could in his state, he ran next door just in time to see Scorpius pitch forward and collapse onto the coffee table.

'Fuck!'

His friend was twitching, gasping and choking for air as a bloody foam dribbled from his mouth. His eyes were open but unseeing, rolling about uncontrollably, and his hands and legs flailed in violent spasms. Albus knelt beside him and grabbed him by the shoulders, but it was useless.

'What's he taken? What's he taken!' he yelled at the others in the room, but they stared helplessly at him.

'It's … it's not meant to have a reaction like that, I swear!' cried one boy. 'He told me it was Billywig powder!'

Albus looked down and saw the remaining specs of the purplish powder on the coffee table. It was most certainly not Billywig powder. Swearing, he reached into the breast pocket of his robes and thanked every deity he could think of when his fingers closed around a small glass phial. Wrenching the stopper out, he forced Scorpius' mouth open and poured the potion down his throat. There was a final, terrifying few seconds, and then Scorpius went limp, his breathing becoming regular again.

He stayed kneeling down with his friend in his arms, until someone touched him lightly on the shoulder. It was Vittoria Zabini, with Adelaide Gray just behind. 'We need to get him to the Hospital Wing, Albus. You've … you've saved his life, but the nurse needs to look him over. Come on.'

'Yeah,' said Albus, and he was shocked to find himself struggling to speak. Brushing away the tears and hoping no one had noticed, he stood up and helped the two girls lift Scorpius onto the stretcher that Vittoria had conjured. The Common Room had fallen silent - clearly the news of Scorpius' fit had spread - and they walked through past a hundred pairs of staring eyes. Albus kept staring straight ahead, his hand resting on his friend's limp one.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

It was an unusually clear morning, and the bright sunlight filtered through the mullioned windows of the Hospital Wing, the beams of light bathing the two boys. They were the only occupants of the ward when Rose walked in, Albus sat in a chair beside the prone body of Scorpius, and she was struck by the appearance of both of them.

Scorpius was dressed in a hospital gown, and his face had the pallor of someone suffering a deeply debilitative illness; there were mauve shadows beneath his closed eyes, and the hollows of his cheeks were deep enough to be cast into shadow by his cheekbones. His hair had been combed off his face, presumably by the nurse, but it looked lank and had lost its usual silvery lustre.

When she'd entered Albus had been sat turned slightly away from the door, watching Scorpius with his chin resting on his palm, but he turned to look at her as she watched. His hair had turned into its natural dishevelled self, and was in dire need of a trim. The tangle of jet curls framed his face, and as he looked up at her his eyes seemed impossibly large, bloodshot around the green irises and with bruises almost as dark as Scorpius' beneath them. He clearly hadn't slept a wink, nor even moved from his chair. He was still dressed in his formal gear from the celebration party - a now-crumpled silver blazer, with a black shirt and a maroon tie pulled loose. Once again, she wondered how on earth he afforded such designer gear.

'I'm surprised to see you here,' he said as she sat down beside him, and his voice was hoarse and strained. 'I'm guessing it's already all over the school.'

'Yes, I heard at breakfast and figured that you'd be here. Are you alright, Albus?' she asked, giving him a sideways glance. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair so that it stood up on end even more. 'H-How did it happen?'

'He got too drunk, took something he shouldn't have. I don't know what, I wasn't there,' said Albus monotonous tone. 'Madame Abbott ran some tests, she should get the results soon.'

'Will he be alright?'

'I don't know, Rose. He - he stopped breathing, I don't know how long for, but he did. We just realised on the way to the Hospital Wing, Vittoria and I had to get his lungs to work magically. M-Madame Abbott said we'd see how he was when he woke up.'

Rose reached across, and took Albus' hand. He allowed the contact for a minute or so before shifting. 'Well I hope he's alright.'

'I'm surprised you care.'

'Just because we don't get on well doesn't mean I wish him permanent harm, Albus,' she snapped, feeling annoyed now.

'Alright, I'm sorry. That was too far. It's just … it's been a long night.'

'I know. I'll take notes for you today.'

She stood up again and Albus wondered how she could be so mature and functional; even her uniform was neat, her hair tamed into two plaits. He wondered how bad he must look in comparison - terrible, from the expression on her face. She gave him a rather pitying smile, and left the Hospital Wing. He was alone with Albus for hardly a minute before the door opened again, and this time Adelaide Gray walked in.

She looked tired as well - her and VIttoria had stayed until Scorpius had stopped fitting and Madame Abbott had finished treating him, which was well past four a.m. - and sat down quietly beside him in the chair that Rose had just left. She'd changed out of her party clothes and into uniform, but her hair was slightly tangled and he noticed a few smudges of makeup around her eyes, as if she'd got ready in a rush.

'What's going to happen?' she asked after a brief silence.

'I don't know,' said Albus, feeling like he was just repeating that same phrase and wishing he could say more.

'Albus,' she said, 'I have to ask. Did you give Scorpius whatever powder caused this? Did it come from you?'

'I … no, I couldn't have. I don't sell anything that could cause this, even mixed with a hundred units of alcohol! I'd never be that stupid. You have to believe me, Adelaide, you have to,' he said.

'I do believe you. I really do,' she said, and she took his hand as well, only this time he didn't pull away. They sat quietly together, watching Scorpius' sleep and enjoying the comfort that companionship brought.

'Thank you, by the way, for last night,' he said after a while. 'You didn't have to do everything that you did.'

'Yes, I did,' she said softly.

There was the sound of footsteps behind them, and they both turned to see none other than Scorpius' mother walking through the door. She looked like she'd come in a rush, her hair and clothes uncharacteristically disordered, and she hurried straight to Scorpius' bedside. With a tenderness that Albus had never seen before, she stroked his forehead, smoothing his hair back and cupping his cheek. As she did, Scorpius shifted slightly in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering, and then fell still again.

'Oh my baby,' murmured his mother, still looking at him. 'What's happened to you?'

'He … he got er … got given something, at the party. Thought it was something different,' said Albus evasively, feeling very awkward at the whole situation. Scorpius' mother seemed to hardly be listening.

'I just got Professor Flint's letter, came straight away,' she said.

'So did we.'

This time Albus jumped, looking around again and seeing his parents walk through the door. Neither of them looked remotely happy as they stood at the end of Scorpius' bed.

'I'd better get to lessons,' said Adelaide. 'I'll take notes for you, Albus.'

She hurried out the room, and Albus was left alone with the adults.

'I'd better go, actually,' said Scorpius' mother, suddenly straightening up. 'If you've both been written to then, well, Scorpius' father will have been too. He can handle things from here, I think, I just wanted to check Scorpius was alright.'

'Are you sure?' said Albus' father. 'He's just on his way, he'll be here soon.'

'Yes, yes, well, I think I'll be going.' She straightened her travelling cloak and left the ward so quickly she looked rather as if she was trying to escape. The door swung shut behind her and Albus stared at Scorpius, knowing that his parents were watching him and trying to avoid their gaze.

'What did Professor Flint say in his letter?' he asked finally.

'Only that you'd been involved in an incident, and that your friend had overdosed on something. He didn't say it was Scorpius,' said his mother. 'How did this happen, Albus? What are you lot up to, to mean that something like this could occur?'

'It … there was a celebration party, for our Quidditch match, and I guess things got out of hand,' he said quietly.

'We had parties that got out of hand, Albus, but none of us ended up in a hospital bed! This is a whole new level,' she said. 'Did you have anything to do with it?'

'No, Mum, are you really asking that? If I put my best friend in this condition? I wasn't there when this happened but I know that this wasn't Scorpius' fault!'

'Do you now?'

All three of the Potters turned around in unison to look at the new arrival. Draco Malfoy was in the open doorway of the Hospital Wing, resembling some gigantic bird of prey with his sharp features and long dark robes and travelling cloak. His expression made Albus' heart sink, if possible, even further. No one spoke as Malfoy grasped his silver cane tight in his fist and strode towards them. He stopped at the end of Scorpius' bed and stared down at him.

'Good morning, Draco,' said Albus' father, and Albus suddenly realised that he was stood behind him, one hand on his shoulder. 'These aren't the best of circumstances for us to meet again…'

'No, they aren't,' said Malfoy curtly. 'Well the situation seems quite clear. My son has been taking illegal substances, most likely because of _your_ son here, and they both need strict reform.'

'Excuse me,' said Albus' mother. 'But I will not receive instruction on how to raise my son from you of all people, Malfoy.'

'Oh, terribly sorry, this situation clearly shows that you've done a _fine_ job, Weasley,' snapped Malfoy, and Albus saw a positively dangerous look get into his mother's eyes.

'It's your son who's in the hospital bed, and mine who carried him there and saved his life. I think you need to evaluate why exactly Scorpius felt the need to get into the state he did and end up like this. Perhaps the fact that you and your ex-wife have very publicly split only weeks after you narrowly avoided Azkaban has something to do with it - although I'm sure you and Astoria have been very supportive of your son all through it. Clearly he's in a very positive mental state,' said Ginny icily.

'How dare you!' roared Malfoy, raising his cane in such a menacing fashion that both Albus and his father started forward, wands in hands. 'You are a pack of filthy upstarts, the whole lot of you, and I don't wish for you to have any association with my son! Professor Flint says that Scorpius likely faces a weeklong suspension from Hogwarts, and when he returns I will ensure that he has _nothing_ to do with you or your son.'

He pulled the travelling cloak tight about his shoulders, glanced briefly at the still unconscious body of Scorpius, and then strode from the Hospital Wing. All three of the Potters watched him go in silence, and then turned to each other. Albus wondered whether the argument that they'd been having before would resurface, but before it could Madame Abbott emerged with several boxes and bottles balanced on a clipboard.

She bustled over, seemingly oblivious to the stormy conflict that had ended moments earlier, and set her things down on Scorpius' bedside table, flicking her wand so that the clipboard hovered beside her in midair. 'Hello, Potters!' she said brightly, smiling round at them all. 'Albus, how are you feeling, you must've been up all night.'

'I'm alright,' Albus mumbled, shrugging.

'Well, I'll get you a pick-me-up from my office once I've finished giving Scorpius a quick examination, it'll help you get through the day. Your son spent hours helping me with Mr Malfoy here,' she said, addressing the last part to Albus' parents. 'An astounding effort! I'd ask him to come be my assistant, if I didn't know he was destined for bigger and brighter things! Him and his friends, Miss Gray and Miss Zabini, certainly saved Scorpius' life last night - he'd have been dead before I saw him if they hadn't acted and kept him breathing. I was amazed at their actions, quite unbelievable! I did mentioned to Professors Flint and Clearwater that they likely deserve some sort of award, perhaps Services to the School, but I think the rather murky circumstances of the incident may cloud their judgments on the matter… Still, you should be very proud of your son.'

Albus looked up at his parents, who were both looking rather bewildered and amazed at the level of praise he'd just received. He himself felt a little perplexed. Wasn't he supposed to be in massive trouble? Madame Abbott was making out like he was a hero!

'Anyway,' she continued, glancing over the floating clipboard, 'the tests have shown what it was that Mr Malfoy had to cause this. I'll let your teachers do the questioning, Albus, because it is definitely an illegal substance - a rather potent mixture of cocaine, dried Billywig, and powdered unicorn horn. Taken separately, none of those substances in that quantity are likely to cause such a violent reaction, but altogether and with a lot of alcohol mixed in makes it a very nasty concoction indeed. Basilisk's Powder, I think it's called.'

'Scorpius didn't take it, at least not knowingly,' said Albus immediately, but Madame Abbott just shook her head.

'Don't say it to me, dear, say it to the teachers. I'll be keeping Scorpius asleep for two days - it'll help his body and mind recover - and then hopefully he can tell us what happened, although it's likely he won't remember much at all. So you might as well head back to your dormitory and get some rest.'

'Not so fast.' Professor Flint had joined the party. Albus wondered if they'd actually been coordinating their entrances and exits. 'Potter, you need to come with me.'

'Can't he sleep first, Marcus?' asked Albus' father, but Flint shook his head. His expression matched his name.

'I need to speak to him first. Come along, Potter.'

Albus rose from his seat, and nodded wordlessly to his parents, who nodded back. With a last glance at Scorpius, who was now being examined by Madame Abbott, Albus followed Professor Flint out of the Hospital Wing. As they turned left and started down the staircase towards the main part of the school, Albus realised they were headed for the dungeons.

'Are we not going to Headmistress Clearwater's study, sir?'

'No, she delegated this task to me.'

Albus wondered if this meant that he wasn't going to be expelled. It was midmorning now, and although it was lesson time and the corridors were fairly empty, they attracted more than a few stares from the students they passed. He knew from Rose that the story had already spread about the school, and he supposed that he must make an odd sight, walking along behind Flint in a crumpled and dirty suit, his hair all dishevelled.

They walked in silence all the way through the school and down to Flint's study, just off the Slytherin Common Room. Albus had always thought that Flint purposefully made his study an intimidating place for students, and he'd never felt it so strongly as now, sat on a hard stool facing his fiercely stern Head of House across a wide mahogany desk. Flint looked down at his meaty fists for a few seconds before speaking.

'Tell me, Potter, your account of last night's events.'

Albus did so. He skimmed over the earlier period of the night, where he himself had been drinking and smoking, until he reached the part where he walked into the room to see Scorpius having a fit. Flint held up a hand to stop him there.

'Can you tell me who else was in that room, when you walked in?'

'I … er … I'm not sure, sir. I was looking at Scorpius, really.'

'Of course. But do you remember any faces at all?'

Albus frowned. It was all a horrible, terrifying blur. A boy had shouted at him, about thinking the powder was Billywig, but his face swam in Albus' mind. He shook his head.

'I'm sorry sir. There were lots of people there, but I was too focussed on Scorpius.'

'I see. Potter, you may be wondering why I am so interested in who else was in the room. Perhaps you have already realised. The situation is this: you claim that Malfoy would not have taken such a substance - and Madame Abbott has informed me exactly what that substance was - if he had known what it was. That someone must have tricked, or coerced him into doing so. It that is so, it is very likely they would have been near you when you found Malfoy, as it can't have been more than ten seconds after he took the powder.'

'Yes, sir,' said Albus. He had already come to that conclusion.

'Well then, it is quite clear. Malfoy cannot be expelled for drinking - as he is seventeen, drinking alcohol to excess is punishable only by suspension. He can be expelled, however, for taking this drug, which is illegal whatever age you are. I do not want to have to expel an innocent student, Potter, but if no one is found to have coerced Malfoy that is what I will have to do. Do you understand?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Right. And as for you,' at this, Albus felt his stomach dropped, 'I seem to be talking to you rather too much at the moment, Potter, and its extremely frustrating. Your grades are exemplary, you have the means to have a very bright future, however you keep on going right up to the line when it comes to rule-breaking. If you're not careful, at some point before you graduate you will trip and fall over it, and don't think for a second that your surname will save you then. I do not like to be frustrated, Potter. Get your attitude sorted out and stop these immature and foolish actions. Now get out of my study.'

Albus left and went straight back to his dormitory, but he didn't sleep. He was physically exhausted but his mind couldn't rest. He lay flat on his back on his bed, staring up at the dark canopy as furious images whirled through his head. After several hours he sat up quite suddenly, and went to the bathroom. Stripping off the dirty, crumpled suit, he stepped naked into the shower and turned on the jets, pushing the dial so the water went as hot as possible. His skin burned and the steam filled his lungs, but he stood for as long as he could bear.

Lessons still hadn't ended and the corridors were deserted as Albus left the dungeons; his footsteps echoed loudly as he strode through the castle. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, but he couldn't stay in that dark dormitory with the image of Scorpius' unconscious body in his mind.

He found himself at the doors of the Library, and after pausing for a moment or two, he pulled open the door and stepped inside. As ever, the vast room, with its hushed quiet and row upon row of bookcases stretching away from him. Hands in his pockets, he strode between them, glancing over the titles without reading them.

'Albus!'

The whisper cut through the silence like a blade. Spinning around, he saw Lily step out from behind a bookcase, and then a moment later the gangly frame of Hugo followed her.

'What do you want?' he hissed.

'We've been looking for you, we need to talk to you about something!'

'I haven't got time for this, Lily!'

'But we think we can help you,' said Hugo.

He turned away from them, striding away between the bookshelves, suddenly angry at these two kids bothering him. Didn't they know that he had other things on his mind? He had to sort out this mess, get Scorpius out of trouble…

'Leave me alone!' he snapped, as they followed him around a bookcase and down another aisle. 'I've got other things on my mind, I've got my best friend-'

'We're here about Scorpius, you arrogant tit!' said Lily. He was so surprised by this that he stopped, and Hugo nearly collided with his back.

'What?'

'We're here because we know something about what happened to Scorpius!' repeated Lily.

'Tell me what you know,' he said quietly.

'Ask us nicely.'

'Lily, I will hex you.'

'Fine. Hugo, you tell, you're the one that heard it.'

Hugo suddenly flushed quite pink, so that his cheeks clashed with his red hair. 'W-Well, this morning Matty and I went for a walk quite early. We were in the courtyard, behind that statue of Egbert the Ecstatic, just … well we were …'

'Okay, you were making out, we get it,' interrupted Albus. 'Get on with it, Hugo.'

'While we were there, a load of boys came into the courtyard. They're this gang, half of them are on the Quidditch team, and well they're not that keen on Matty and me so we stayed behind Egbert. The boys started laughing, and I realised they were talking about last night. They were talking about how funny it was that Scorpius was in the Hospital Wing, and "how well it had been done".'

'You mean, they were the boys that poisoned him?' asked Albus, his heart thumping in his chest.

'I think so.'

'What were their names? Tell me their names!'

'It was Harriot McLaggen. Him and Connor Finnigan, they're the ringleaders of the gang.'

Albus raised a clenched fist, pressing it against his mouth. Fierce rage coursed through his body and he had to close his eyes to keep calm. He could feel Lily and Hugo staring at him and he turned away, running his hands over his eyes.

'Is this everything you know?'

'Yes. They left after that. But they were definitely involved, alright?'

'Alright - thank you.'

'What're you going to do?'

'Don't worry about it, I'll sort it okay.'

'Albus!' snapped Lily, grabbing him by the arm as he began to walk away. 'Don't you dare shut us out, we want to help. We've told you this, and now we deserve to be included.'

'You're a pair of fourteen-year-olds, no! I can handle it.'

'No, you can't. You and your Slytherin friends can scheme all you like, but you won't be able to get anywhere near McLaggen and his lot, they'll see you coming from a mile off. You don't think they'll suspect something? You need a Gryffindor to do it.'

He stopped and turned back to look at her. She was speaking sense, he knew that, but he balked from involving his baby sister in the scheme he'd have to concoct to bring down McLaggen and Finnigan. But her expression had that same old stubbornness he knew so well, and even Hugo was looking intransigent.

'Alright. You can help. But you have to do what I say, understand?'

He left the Library with the two of them at his heels, but he didn't return to the dungeons. Instead he headed for the Transfiguration classroom, where he knew Adelaide and his friends would be. They arrived just as the bell rang, and he nearly collided with Professor Foxworth. She cast a disapproving eye over the three of them but said nothing, disappearing off down the corridor. A few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws trickled out of the door, staring at him as they went. He supposed everyone must be talking about him all over the school.

The Zabini twins appeared first, closely followed by Adelaide and the others. 'Albus! What're you doing here?'

'We need to talk - all of us. It's about Scorpius.'

They found themselves an empty classroom a few doors down and ranged themselves across the desks and chairs, everyone staring at Albus. In a few short words, he set out the whole situation - what Scorpius had taken, what would happen to him if no one else could be blamed for it, and finally, what Lily and Hugo had told him. As he finished talking, there was a stretch of silence broken by Fitzroy.

'Those bastards deserve to be strung up by their toes.'

'Indeed. But for now, how do we pin them down and get a confession out of them? And by tomorrow afternoon, no less.'

'Easy,' said Lily. She was sat on a desk a little apart from the Slytherins, her legs swinging slightly, twisting a lock of hair about her forefinger as she watched the proceedings. 'We pretend that we want to buy some drugs off him.'

In unison, the entire room turned to look at her, and she smiled a little at the attention. 'What're you on about?' asked Zabini, leaning forward.

'McLaggen and Finnigan got hold of Basilisk's Powder, and as it was only last night they'll still have it on them. It's expensive and it's illegal. They'll want to be getting rid of it. By making them think that I want to buy it, I can easily lure them into a room and then … and then-'

'Wait, wait, wait!' Albus held up a hand. 'You're saying that you're going to be the one to do this?'

'Yes. Who else?'

'Anyone else!' he roared.

'Oh, calm down Potter, she's got a point,' said Langwith, giving Lily an appraising look. 'It's not a bad plan.'

'No - no, we're not doing this!'

'Yes, we should,' said Vittoria. 'Stop being such a nerd, Albus, your sister will be fine.'

'I am nearly fifteen,' said Lily. 'Tessa and I will be fine.'

'Who's Tessa?' asked Albus, feeling like he was rapidly losing control of the situation.

'Tessa's my best friend, Albus, she spent like half the summer with us!' replied Lily. When he thought about it, he did vaguely remember a blonde girl hanging about the house a lot during the holidays. The idea of another person being involved didn't endear him to the plan any more. 'It's fine, Albus, you can trust her.'

Several hours later, Albus found himself hidden in a spare Charms classroom, stuffed in an old book cupboard with Fitzroy and Langwith. They were lying in wait for McLaggen and Finnigan, trusting that Lily and her friend Tessa would be able to lure them into the trap they'd laid. Across the room, Vittoria and Adelaide were underneath the teacher's desk, and Zabini was behind the door.

In the cramped space, Albus could feel the air growing warm from their breathing, and his limbs began to cramp from staying in one position. With each minute that passed, their plan seemed more and more stupid, until finally he was on the verge of telling them to call it all off. He'd actually opened his mouth when they heard the door of the classroom bang open and giggling voices enter. Suddenly tense, he pressed his eye against the crack in the door.

He could only see a thin sliver of the classroom beyond, the vague shapes of the four figures. From the shifting red hair, he identified Lily - she was holding the hand of one of the boys, leading him to the desk. He couldn't see the other girl and boy, but he heard their voices. He felt Fitzroy shift impatiently, brushing against his back, and he held up a hand. They had to wait.

After a minute or two, although it felt like much longer, there was the distinctive sound of the classroom door slamming shut, and then a yell of surprise from both McLaggen and Finnigan. Grasping his wand tight in his left hand, Albus shoved the cupboard door open and burst out with Langwith and Fitzroy at his shoulders just as Adelaide and Vittoria appeared from behind the desk.

For a moment, McLaggen and Finnigan seemed paralysed by the shock of seeing six Slytherins suddenly appear from nowhere, and Albus grasped that split second. Raising his wand, he pointed it at McLaggen and yelled: 'Stupefy!' At the same time, Adelaide pointed her wand at Finnigan, and ropes flew out the end to bind him from head to toe. Both boys toppled over, Finnigan yelling and McLaggen motionless. Lily and Tessa had let go of the boys as soon as the Slytherins appeared, and wiped their hands on their skirts as if they'd touched something nasty.

'Alright, I guess we're starting with you,' said Albus, grasping Finnigan and pulling him upright. The boy had gone paler than his sandy hair, staring with wide, bloodshot eyes at Albus. Albus slapped him. It felt good, the sharp sting on his palm, the heat, the knowledge that he'd hurt Finnigan. 'You know what we want to talk about, don't you Finnigan? You slimy little bastard!'

'Albus, calm down,' said Langwith.

'No - this boy - he's a -'

A hand grasped Albus by the shoulder with a grip of iron and dragged him backwards. He looked up to see Zabini's impassive face staring down at him, and after a pause he nodded and shifted aside. Zabini stepped over him and grasped Finnigan by the collar, lifting him onto the desk as easily as if he was a child. If anything, Finnigan looked even more scared.

'Tell us how you did it, Connor.'

'I didn't do anything!'

'We know that you did it. Now just tell us, or we'll have to make it hard for you.'

'I won't tell you a thing!'

Zabini smiled. 'That's better. You're on your way. Vittoria, will you check McLaggen's pockets?'

'There's nothing here,' said Vittoria a moment later. 'Except some gum and a nasty old tissue.'

'Check Finnigan's pockets,' said Langwith, raising an eyebrow as Finnigan began to shake his head.

'No, no … no…'

'Let's see what packages you've got in your pants, Finnigan,' laughed Vittoria, reaching into the pockets of the boy's robes. After a moment, she smiled and pulled out a small package of purplish powder. 'Merlin. Everyone says that Gryffindors have wool for brains but you don't even have that.'

'That little bitch over there said she wanted some, what was I to do!' snapped Finnigan. Albus started towards him, but before he could hit him there was a sharp _crack_ as Lily slapped him hard across the face. Finnigan fell back, stunned, and was dropped roughly to the floor by Zabini.

'But wait a second,' said Langwith. He was leant against the teacher's desk, his forefinger pressed against his hollow cheek as he watched the action. 'We've got another issue here. It can't have been either of these two who actually gave the drugs to Scorpius, they'd have been noticed and kicked out of the party within five seconds. Unless they'd drunk Polyjuice - and I doubt either of these two even really know what Polyjuice Potion is, let alone are able to brew up a batch - a Slytherin must have actually done it.'

They all looked around at each other, stunned. Which Slytherin would have done it? How were they to find out? Zabini walked over to McLaggen and pressed his wand against the boy's thick neck. 'Enervate.'

McLaggen opened his eyes and began to sit up, but stopped suddenly as Zabini pressed his foot against his crotch. 'No point fighting, McLaggen, your friend's confessed everything. We only want to know one thing - who did you pay to give Scorpius drugs? Who was it?'

'No one!' said McLaggen, but he let out a sharp wail as Zabini pressed down with his foot. 'Alright, alright! It was Fellerton, Jasper Fellerton! He's a Third Year.'

'We know who he is,' said Albus. Fellerton was a weedy, smarmy boy who had tried to become one of Albus' sellers that year, but Albus had taken a disliking to him and refused his help. After he'd got Fellerton to sign a cursed form preventing him from ever speaking of Albus' business, of course. It seemed he was right to distrust the boy. Zabini let go of McLaggen, who fell back, gasping and holding his crotch.

'Alright, what're we to do now?' asked Langwith. He was leant against the teacher's desk, his forefinger pressed against his hollow cheek as he watched the action.

'I think we can get these two to confess,' said Fitzroy, glaring down at the two prone boys. Kneeling down, he grasped Finnigan by the hair. 'Alright, fucker, listen to me. You're going to walk with us to Professor Longbottom's office, with McLaggen here, and then the two of you are going to confess exactly what you did to Scorpius. Understand?'

'Why should I do that?' croaked Finnigan.

'Because,' said Fitzroy, smiling slyly, 'if you don't, we'll beat you to shit and _drag_ you into their office. Eight of us against two of you, plus you have drugs in your pocket. We're being nice and giving you the chance to confess - then maybe they'll just expel you, and not arrest you as well for good measure.'

'Come along, boys,' said Zabini, hauling the two of them to their feet. 'Let's move.'

They waited a little down the corridor while McLaggen and Finnigan entered the study. 'Do you think they'll tell the truth?' asked Langwith, lighting a cigarette in a nearby candle bracket.

'Yes,' said Tessa, speaking for the first time in the whole escapade. She was stood with Lily, and the two girls had their arms around each other. 'Those boys act all tough but it's all a lie. You'll have scared them enough to make them believe what you said. Anyway, we should be going - it's past curfew and if Longbottom comes out we'll get detention.'

She and Lily started to go, but before they went ten paces there was the sound of footsteps approaching from the other end of the corridor. At once, the whole group of them dove for cover, squeezing themselves into alcoves and behind statues as Headmistress Clearwater appeared. Albus held his breath, crouching behind a heavy marble bust, but Clearwater didn't notice any of them. She walked straight past and into Longbottom's study. After a pause, they all emerged from their hiding spots.

'That doesn't look good for McLaggen and Finnigan,' said Adelaide.

'Good for us, though,' said Fitzroy with a smirk. 'Oh, and while I was hiding behind that tapestry I found one of those Extendable Ears your uncle makes.'

'Give it here, I want to listen!' hissed Albus, but Fitzroy jerked the long, fleshy string out of reach.

'Fuck off, Potter, it's mine.'

He went to the study door and made to feed it underneath, but each time the string reached the gap under the door the end would jump away as if flicked. Fitzroy tried several times before Lily rolled her eyes and said:

'Longbottom isn't an idiot - he'll have made his door Impervious so you can't listen in. I mean, he did go to school with my uncle, he knows about Extendable Ears.'

'Right,' muttered Fitzroy, stuffing the Ear back in his pocket and walking back to them looking mutinous.

As it turned out, they couldn't have used the Extendable Ear at all as a moment later the door of Longbottom's study opened and Professor Clearwater walked out. They all froze, staring at her, but she didn't seem particularly surprised to see them.

'I did think it was surprising that McLaggen and Finnigan handed themselves in so meekly, I should have guessed that you lot may have had something to do with it. Well, the culprits of Mr Malfoy's overdose have certainly been caught and dealt with, so you can tell your friend when he wakes up that he is not expelled. He is still suspended for three days, for the drinking, but I think we can omit to put that on his record. Miss Potter, Miss Jenkins, I will inform Professor Longbottom that you two will serve detention with him tomorrow evening, as your curfew was half an hour ago. Good night, all of you.'

She gave them a rare hint of a smile, and then swept off down the corridor. They looked around at each other, and Albus let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding. 'Alright, let's go back then. Night Lily, Tessa. Thanks for helping.'

'No problem, those boys have always been gits,' said Lily with a sly smile, and she and Tessa left arm-in-arm. The others exchanged a look, and set off back to the dungeons together.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

After breakfast the following morning, half the school watched as Connor Finnigan and Harriot McLaggen were led from the grounds by their parents, their trunks bobbing along behind them. Albus and his friends leant out of a window on the first floor, halfway between the Great Hall and the Transfiguration classroom, as the boys crossed the courtyard below. As they reached the archway at the far end, Albus saw something pink fly through the air and strike McLaggen on the back of the head. It burst, and he thought it looked suspiciously like one of his uncles' prototypes. Craning his neck, he saw the distinctive red hair of his younger sister duck inside one of the windows below, and smirked.

McLaggen didn't even look back, just ducked his head and stumbled after his parents as the gelatinous pink liquid dribbled down his back. Albus ran a hand through his own hair and stepped away from the window. 'Good riddance,' said Fitzroy, grinning at the rest of them. 'And we're going to destroy Gryffindor next match.'

Albus hadn't thought of that. His brother had let McLaggen and Finnigan back on the team after Christmas, saying that their probation period was over, and although he'd disagreed with that decision it was undeniable that the two boys had made up a strong part of the team. James' likelihood of getting scouted hinged on him having a good final, and it was extremely likely that the final playoff would be Slytherin versus Gryffindor. He didn't like to think about facing James if Gryffindor lost that match.

He was so unfocussed in his lessons that morning that he managed to transfigure his cat into a cantaloupe instead of a cactus, and nearly hospitalised Rose when he absent-mindedly poured Tabasco into his Draught of Ebullience and made the whole thing explode. At lunch he ate hurriedly, and hurried up to the Hospital Wing as soon as he finished, as Scorpius was being woken up. To his surprise, he found Adelaide and then Rose joining him at the door to the ward.

'I saved his life too,' said Adelaide in answer to his inquiring look.

'I - want to support you,' said Rose, although he thought she looked rather pink about the cheeks. He wondered if she'd run there, too.

Madame Abbott was examining a small boy with hives on his face when they walked in, and looked rather exasperated at the sight of them. 'Honestly, will you lot ever let me Heal in peace?' she sighed, pulling a large pot of ointment out her robes and smearing it across the small boy's face. 'I'll apply that again in an hour, Simpkins, and you'll be out by dinner. Why on _earth_ you felt the need to go grubbing about in a Devil's Lettuce patch I just don't know.'

'Madame Abbott?' asked Rose tentatively as she bustled across the room. 'Are - are you waking Scorpius up today?'

'Well I was _planning_ on eating lunch first but clearly you lot would prefer me to starve. I suppose he's been sleeping long enough - come on, then. I'll allow you to be here as long as you do absolutely _nothing_ to interfere or distract me. It is imperative that he wakes up right.'

They nodded, and sat down in a row beside the bed. Scorpius was in much the same position as the last time Albus had seen him, although his breathing was a little deeper, and he thought that there was a touch more colour on his friend's hollow cheeks. Madame Abbott leant over him and began her examinations, all the while taking notes on a clipboard. After a minute or two, Rose turned to Albus and whispered:

'Is it true? You caught out McLaggen and Finnigan for giving Scorpius that awful drug, and got them expelled?'

He nodded, wondering if she was going to be angry at him, but instead her face broke into a broad smile and she actually put her arms around him in a hug. He tolerated it for a moment, half out of shock, and then pushed her gently away. She was still beaming.

'I'm sorry to say it, but those two have been awful for the past six years,' she said. 'I'm not sad to see them go at all.'

'Alright but calm down, you look like you've stuck a broomstick in your cheeks,' said Albus, feeling rather uncomfortable at this unexpected approval. He glanced around at Adelaide, and saw that she was smiling too, although her eyes were still fixed on Scorpius. He decided that girls were very odd indeed, and went back to watching Madame Abbott's ministrations on Scorpius.

The minutes ticked by, with the whimpering of Simpkins in the background. After a while, Madame Abbott stepped back for a moment and produced a vial of translucent, blue-tinged potion, which she promptly fed to Scorpius. He choked slightly and Albus felt Rose grab his wrist as Scorpius gasped for air and his eyes shot open, staring blindly up at the ceiling. His back arched, his fingers scrabbling on the white sheets, and Albus' eyes started to water at the pain of Rose's grip. But just as Albus opened his mouth to protest, Scorpius' whole body relaxed back onto the mattress again and his breathing began to ease into a regular rhythm. Madame Abbott leant over and patted his sweaty forehead with a damp cloth. Scorpius' eyes had closed again - he looked peacefully asleep.

'It's not unusual for patients to fall straight into a natural sleep again, it takes the body some time to adjust and the wake up process alone is quite taxing. He'll be up in a while,' said Madame Abbott softly. Albus checked his watch and grimaced.

'I've got Magical Languages, now, Professor Glotten will kill me if I don't show,' he groaned.

'Me too,' said Adelaide, as the bell for the end of lunch rang.

'I might skip it, someone should be with Scorpius when he wakes up,' said Albus, pausing with his hand halfway towards his bag.

'No, Scorpius, I won't let you,' said Rose firmly. 'You can't skip anymore school, you're toeing close enough to the line as it is. I'll wait here, I've got a free period now anyway.'

Albus raised his eyebrows at her. 'Really? You'll wait by Scorpius' bedside?'

'Don't be so sceptical, we can be perfectly civil when we want to be. We are paired up for Prefect duties, after all,' she retorted. Albus still seemed unsure, but Adelaide was on her feet and with a final check of his watch he picked up his bag and followed her out the ward. Rose watched them go, and then settled back in her chair.

She found herself watching Scorpius sleep, glancing over his features and then meditating on the steady rise and fall of his chest. He had become incredibly thin from his stint in hospital, his ribs visible through his hospital gown, although he did at least now have the colouring of a person rather than a corpse. She mulled over the last two days, since she'd heard that Scorpius was seriously ill in the Hospital Wing. At first, the rumours had said that he was likely to die, that he'd been poisoned, and she'd found herself wandering the castle in a state of shock and terror, unable to focus on anything but the possible loss of Scorpius. When she'd found out that he wasn't going to die the terror had abated, only to be replaced by confusion and, when it looked like he was going to be expelled, fear again.

And now she was sat beside him as he slept peacefully, and she was left only with that confusion, that bewilderment, over why she'd become such a mess. This was Scorpius Malfoy, her nemesis, the boy she'd been unable to stand from the very moment they'd set eyes on each other all those years ago on the Hogwarts Express. They'd virtually come to blows then, and Albus had attested that they had sent sparks at each other. And even after they'd grown up a little, and could stand to be in a room together, they'd always argued or teased each other to the brink of anger.

'Weasley?'

She jumped a little, suddenly realising that Scorpius' eyes were open. The grey-blue irises seemed to be more piercing than usual. She stared, unsure quite what to say, as Scorpius blinked in confusion and then looked around at the Hospital Wing.

'What … what happened? Did I have an accident? Was it at the match?'

'No,' said Rose. 'Look, I'm not sure how to say this. You overdosed at the victory party for the match. McLaggen and Finnigan have confessed that they paid someone to give you Basilisk's Powder and call it Billywig - they're already expelled, your gang of Slytherins tracked down what happened. But you're lucky to be alive, really. Albus saved your life.'

'Merlin's left bollock,' croaked Scorpius. 'That's quite something.'

'Do you not remember any of it?'

'I remember bits of the match, I think, but it's all blurry and mixed up. I think some of what I remember was just dreams, I'm not sure,' he said. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and smiled. 'So what're you doing, sat by my bedside?'

'I was just here with Albus,' said Rose, quickly.

'Alright, alright, don't flatter me even if I'm an invalid…'

'I wanted to come support him, he's been a wreck about it all. You nearly dying, then nearly getting expelled. It's been tough on him.'

'I'd expect nothing less. But thanks, Weasley. You don't have to sit here. Won't your boyfriend be wondering?'

'Oh my god, Daniel!' Rose jumped to her feet. 'I was supposed to meet him after lunch, I said we could hang out all this period!'

'Well, you'd better hurry off, then. See you around, Rose.'

She hurried out of the Hospital Wing, taking the stairs two at a time and virtually running back to the Common Room. Several people looked around as she burst through the portrait hole, but she ignored them and went over to Daniel. He was sat with his back to her, bent over a book they were supposed to be reading for Charms. He didn't look up as she sat down on the arm of the chair, until she put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

'Dan, I'm so sorry, really I am,' she murmured. He looked around at her, his brown eyes wide and hurt, and she felt her chest clench with guilt.

'Where have you been?'

'I'm sorry, I was with Albus, he's been such a wreck -'

'I don't mean just this lunchtime. I've hardly spoken to you for days, you've been so distant, it's like I don't even exist to you!' he said. 'Do you even care about me anymore?'

'Daniel, of course I do!' cried Rose. But even as she said it, she felt guilty, as if she was lying. She did care about him, deeply, but it felt different to how she'd felt before. Pushing that out her mind, she placed a hand on his chest. 'Please, Daniel, give us a chance. I've been absent, I know, but I'll try harder. Please?'

He sighed, but took her hand. 'Alright. Let's go upstairs and talk properly.' She nodded, and followed him upstairs.

The next day, Albus brought a leather duffel bag of clothes and books to Scorpius in the Hospital Wing, and found him already up and dressed, his half-eaten breakfast pushed to one side. Albus fell into a chair and placed the duffel bag beside him, but Scorpius didn't look at it. There was a strange expression in his eyes, one that had been lingering in his face since he'd woken up.

'It's just a three day suspension, Scorpius,' said Albus. 'You can have some peace and quiet, and get better. And you wouldn't want to be in Hogwarts anyway, not until the bloody gossipers have moved on.'

'Yeah, and my father will probably be away on business, anyway.'

Albus thought this was an odd thing to say, but he let it slide. Madame Abbott had arrived, anyway, to check Scorpius over and give him her all clear. 'Peaky, but you'll do. Eat lots and don't tax yourself - use that cane! And come for a checkup when you get back to Hogwarts.' She bustled off, and left Scorpius and Albus alone again.

After a long pause, Scorpius stood up slowly and grasped the plain wood cane beside him, leaning heavily upon it. He flicked his left hand so that the bag hovered just behind him, and then set off out of the Hospital Wing. Albus went with him all the way to the Entrance Hall, where Professor Flint was waiting with the haggard figure of Mr Malfoy.

'Potter, you can go,' said Flint. 'Breakfast is almost over, anyway.'

Albus nodded and went quietly, as from the expression on Mr Malfoy's face at the sight of him, his hanging around would not be helpful at all. At the doorway to the Great Hall, he glanced back and saw Mr Malfoy speaking to Scorpius, his hand clenched on his shoulder. The expression on Scorpius' face was stiff and unreadable. Albus turned, and went into the Great Hall.

—

 _The library swam before Scorpius' eyes, tipping on its axis as he tried to steady himself, but his limbs felt dull and sluggish, like he was moving through thick treacle. The lights seemed to spark and flicker, blindingly bright, and he squinted as the crooked silhouette of his father loomed before him. His whole body was shaking, as the floor shuddered beneath them, and his stomach swam with nausea and pain._

 _'_ _You bastard!' screamed his father, 'you're no son of mine!'_

 _The silhouette moved swiftly and Scorpius felt his back arch in agony as a bolt of pain shot through his body. He fell backwards as a black wave rose around him, washing over his head and enveloping him in thick darkness. He fell through the air, flailing in the treacle, and still screaming so hard he thought it would wrench his chest apart._

 _'_ _Scorpius! Scorpius!'_

Something was shaking him, pulling at his body, and the thick darkness was suddenly cloyingly moist and seemed to be wrapping tighter around him, constricting his limbs…

'Scorpius!'

His eyes shot open, and he saw Albus' face looming over him, blurred slightly at the edges. He gasped, and realised all at once that he was in the dormitory, and that it was damp sheets wrapped tightly around him. He blinked, and the room came into focus as Albus stepped back, still staring at him. He knew that he must look a sight, wild-eyed and soaked in sweat. The other boys were watching from their own beds, except for Zabini who seemed to be in the shower. Attempting to look normal, he blinked and turned away from Albus, pulling the sheets off of his legs.

'Why did you wake me?' he asked, running a hand across his damp forehead and pushing hair out his eyes.

'You were … yelling in your sleep,' said Albus.

'Sounded like a pretty intense nightmare,' said Fitzroy from his own bed, watching Scorpius through perfectly tousled curls.

'Are you still on withdrawal from those drugs?' asked Albus.

'Ugh, yeah must be that,' lied Scorpius, still not looking at any of them. 'I can't remember anything. I should get moving, I've got to go see Madame Abbott before lessons.'

Zabini emerged from the bathroom in a towel and Scorpius snuck past him before Albus or any of them could say anything, escaping into the shower. He stripped off and stared at his reflection for a moment. The slashes across his torso were still bright red, thin lines that crisscrossed his chest and back. He traced one with a tip of his finger, and then turned away and stepped into the shower, gritting his teeth as the jets stung the raw cuts.

Madame Abbott was bustling around the near-empty Hospital Wing when Scorpius entered, and she waved him over to an empty bed. 'Sit down, Mr Malfoy, this shouldn't take long.' She took his temperature, heart rate, checked his eyes and throat. 'Eating properly? Any pain?'

'All's normal,' said Scorpius, attempting a relaxed smile.

'You're lucky to be alive, Malfoy, and next time you may not be. Take this as a stern warning, understand? I don't want to see you back here, and certainly not for intoxication or substance abuse. Alright, off you go. Eat lots of greens, and red meat too, you need to keep your protein up. Take this potion twice a day for a week, and you shouldn't have any lasting effects. Now go, lessons are starting and you've missed enough over the past week. Go!'

She handed him a box of vials, and ushered him out. The bell had already rung for class, and when he reached the Transfiguration classroom Professor Foxworth was midway through a speech on inter-species Transfiguration between exoskeleton and endoskeleton species. He ducked his head and hurried to sit beside Albus, who silently slid his notes between them for Scorpius to copy.

'Are you alright?' whispered Albus, but Scorpius ignored him on the pretence of pulling a sheet of parchment from his bag and diligently trying to catch up on notes. 'What was going on earlier?'

'Nothing,' hissed Scorpius, avoiding Albus' gaze and starting on his notes. 'it was just a nightmare, Albus, leave it. I'm going through withdrawal from the Basilisk's powder, aren't I?'

'Seemed like more than just a nightmare,' muttered Albus.

There was a Quidditch practice that afternoon, and Scorpius changed into his robes in the dormitory to avoid stripping off in front of the rest of the team. They all stared at him in surprise as he walked in, broomstick over his shoulder, and Bowles stepped forward. 'You sure you want to practice, Malfoy? Don't you need to rest up a bit?'

'No, I don't,' said Scorpius firmly, 'I've rested up enough, I'll be fine. We've got the final coming up anyway, I need to practice.'

'Alright, it's up to you.'

To Scorpius' surprise and pleasure, practice went perfectly. As soon as he kicked off into the air, he felt the maddening cycle of thoughts and anxieties that had been plaguing him for the past week drift completely from his mind. For ninety minutes, he could forget all of it and just focus on the Quaffle, his teammates, and the three hoops at their end of the pitch. When Bowles finally blew his whistle and practice came to an end, Scorpius felt a vague sinking feeling in his chest that wasn't just because he'd directed his broomstick to land.

Bowles clapped him on the back as they headed back to the changing rooms. 'Nice practice, Malfoy, not bad at all. We're thinking of having drinks tonight after practice, if you want to come along?'

Scorpius shook his head. 'I … I shouldn't. I've got stacks of work to catch up on from the past week, you know, I really don't want to get in even more trouble for that. In fact, I think I'll go now.'

He lifted his broomstick onto his shoulder again and left. The chatter and banter of the locker room faded away to silence behind him as he headed down the passageway and away through the castle.

It was a Friday night, and as usual the Slytherin Common Room was packed and noisy but the Library was virtually deserted. Scorpius realised as he stepped inside that he'd never actually been to the Library on a Friday night during his whole time at Hogwarts. Still, the cool silence felt much better than the maelstrom of Slytherin House. At least here he had a chance to order his thoughts, go through them steadily, instead of being attacked by them all at once. He needed to work out the last week of his life.

He let the door swing shut behind him, ignoring the glare from the wizened old librarian, and set off down a long aisle of shelves to the row of desks at the far end. To his surprise, it wasn't entirely deserted. A familiar head of red curls was bent over some sheets of parchment between tottering stacks of books, urgently scribbling away. With a smile, Scorpius ran a hand through his hair, thinking as he did how long it was getting, and wandered over to sit down opposite her.

'Evening, Weasley,' he murmured, pulling out his own work. 'I'm surprised, I always thought you were a secret swot. Albus is the one for the Library.'

'I've got to catch up on some essays,' whispered Rose. 'And there's a party going on in the Gryffindor Tower that I didn't feel like going to.'

'I'd tease you for that, but I've got enough to be getting on with,' said Scorpius, running a quill down the list of essays he had to do. 'It seems that accidentally overdosing isn't an excuse for skipping out on homework.'

'Try saying your Crup ate it?' said Rose, smirking. He noticed a dimple appeared in her cheek when she smiled. He chuckled, and then groaned a second later as he reached into her bag. Rose raised her eyebrows. 'What?'

'I'm such an idiot, I forgot to bring any ink. I'll just head back to the dungeons and grab some-'

'Don't be silly, you can borrow mine,' said Rose. He reached out to take the small glass pot she held, and felt his hand jump involuntarily as their fingers brushed. Avoiding her eyes, he hurriedly took the pot and busied himself with starting a plan of his Herbology essay on Gravity Resistant Shrubs. There was a few minutes of silence, filled only by the scratching of their quills and the occasional flick of pages.

'Gravity Resistant Shrubs shrivel at the touch of lemon juice, don't they?' asked Scorpius.

'No, lemon juice helps them bloom,' corrected Rose.

'But according to this book, citrus fruit is deadly for them!' exclaimed Scorpius.

'And if you turned the page, you'd see that lemon juice is the exception. That essay is supposed to be discussing what properties are required to make a Gravity Resistant Shrub grow, so the different reactions to lemons as to limes or grapefruit or whatever is one of the main points you're supposed to be discussing!' said Rose.

'No need to be so high and mighty,' retorted Scorpius, refusing to admit that she was right. He added a few points to his plan, and then looked up to see Rose smiling. 'What're you smirking about?'

'I'm not smirking. I was just thinking, that was probably a record for us managing to be together without arguing,' she replied.

'Next thing you know, we might actually be friends,' said Scorpius.

'Will you two be quiet!' hissed the librarian, glaring at them from around a shelf. 'This is a library!'

'And I should probably be going. I made a promise to Daniel that I'd spend more time with him, and this definitely doesn't count as that. Have a good night, Malfoy.'

'And you, Weasley.'

She left the Library and only realised when she was halfway back to the Gryffindor Tower that she was still smiling. It only made her annoyed that it was Malfoy of all people who'd made her smile, the manipulative little snake. She pushed him out of her mind and thought instead of Daniel. He'd probably be at the party that James Potter was throwing, wondering where she was and waiting for her to appear. Only yesterday he'd appeared outside the door of her last lesson of the day with a bunch of flowers - roses, of course - and taken her off for a walk by the lake. He was the perfect boyfriend, she thought, as she reached the Fat Lady and entered the Common Room.

The party was loud and boisterous, as usual, and she had to crane her neck to look for Daniel over the jostling heads. Lily appeared beside her, bottle of Butterbeer in hand. 'Who're you looking for?'

'Daniel, of course. I can't see him!'

'Oh, he disappeared a while ago. I think he said he was tired and wanted an early night.'

'Thanks, Lily!'

'No problem,' said Lily, shrugging and disappearing into the crowd again. Rose started to push her way through the crowd, picking up a couple of cups of punch as she went. This was perfect - the rest of Daniel's dormitory would be at the party until the early hours of the morning, so they'd have the place to themselves for hours. She shoved her way between the last gaggle of students, some Third Years gathered near the door to the boys' dormitories, and then made her way up the spiral staircase. Maybe he'd be asleep already, and she'd surprise him and wake him up.

She reached the door of his dormitory and grasped the doorknob, but as she began to open it she stopped short, her heart suddenly beating fast in her chest. As she'd opened the door she'd heard the unmistakeable sound of a girl's moan. She stood frozen, trying to find air to breathe, as she let the door swing inwards and saw her boyfriend entwined on his bed with another girl. The curtains of his bed weren't even drawn, she had full view of them writhing half-naked together, until the girl opened her eyes, saw Rose, and screamed.

Daniel looked around and, at the sight of Rose, sprang from the bed towards her. He tripped over his feet in his undone jeans, and she was halfway down the stairs before he caught up with her, grabbing her by the wrist.

'Rose, stop! Rose!'

'No, let me go Daniel!' cried Rose, tears in her eyes as she pulled away from him.

'Please let me explain!'

'There's nothing to explain, is there? You were in bed with another girl, about to have sex with her! You can't even deny it!'

'Look, I'm sorry, I was just talking to her and one thing led to another - I was drunk - we weren't going to have sex!'

'Oh, like any of that even matters!' hissed Rose, glaring at him through her tears. 'You were cheating on me, and you can't even pretend you care! What, the whole way up to the dormitory did you not once think about me? You're not even that drunk!'

'I said I was sorry! Can we not talk about this? I was just feeling lonely, you haven't been around!' he said as she turned away.

'Don't you dare throw that in my face!' she yelled. 'I never want to see or speak to you again. We're over, Daniel, you're dead to me!'

She ran down the stairs and he didn't follow her. Tears were streaming down her face as she burst back into the party and pushed her way through it, ignoring the yells of surprise and annoyance as she shoved past people. At the Portrait Hole she bumped into one of her friends, a girl called Emmanuelle, who stared at her in surprise.

'Rose, what's happened? You're crying!'

'D-Daniel - with Christina - in bed - I need to go!' choked Rose, and she ran past Emmanuelle and out through the Portrait Hole again. She hardly took notice of where she was running, just that it was away from the Gryffindor Tower, until she went around a corner and bumped straight into someone coming from the opposite direction. Someone caught her before she fell and she heard a familiar voice:

'Weasley? What's going on?'

It was Scorpius. He was clearly on his way back from the Library. She stared at him in shock and surprise, and then found herself bursting into a fresh wave of sobs, her heartbreak combining with mortification that he was seeing her in such a state. To her very great surprise, she suddenly found he had put his arms around her and was hugging her. Her face pressed into his shoulder, soaking it with tears as he held her.

As they pulled away, she attempted to choke out an explanation, but he quickly shushed her. 'Don't try and speak yet. Come on, let's go talk somewhere else.'

He put an arm around her shoulders and led her down a passageway, up a staircase, and along another corridor. She was unsure where they were headed until suddenly they reached a spiral staircase, and she had a split second of realisation before they emerged on top of the Astronomy Tower. 'It's one of my favourite places to go when I need some peace and quiet. I was wondering whether to come here or go back to the dungeons when you pitched up,' he explained, as he cast a little ball of familiar bluebell-coloured flames that hovered just above them. 'Now, tell me what's going on to get you in this state.'

Her sobs had subsided a little on the walk, but her voice still choked on the words as she attempted to tell him what she'd walked in on in Daniel's dormitory. She finished with their breakup on the staircase, and he murmured several extremely rude names for Daniel. Despite all of it, she couldn't help but giggle a little, and Scorpius gave her a slightly crooked smile. She wiped her eyes with a sleeve, and went to lean against the parapet of the tower. It was very beautiful, she had to admit, with the clear starry sky overhead and the panoramic view of the moonlit grounds. Scorpius leant next to her, close enough that she could feel the heat from his arm through their robes.

'He's not worth it, Rose. If he thinks he can do something like that to you then he's the biggest idiot in the world. You're going to fall in love with someone so much better and wonder why you ever fell for such an arsehole.'

She stared at him, no longer crying, and he looked around at her. 'What?'

'Nothing just … I don't think you've ever called me 'Rose', before. It's always been Weasley or … worse.'

'I'm not such a dickhead that I'd insult a crying girl,' he replied.

'You're not acting like a dickhead at all, for once.'

He shrugged, a lock of hair falling over his eyes, and then suddenly grinned as wide as if he'd stuck a wand in his mouth. 'Look at you, getting all soft,' he said, laughing even harder when she scowled and smacked him on the arm. 'Can't deny it, Weasley!'

'I will. Say it to anyone and I call it slander,' she retorted, but he didn't lose the annoying smile. 'Oh, and your hair's fallen on your face.'

'What, here?' He pointed at his cheek. 'Here?' He pointed at his chin, smirking.

'Oh for Merlin's sake,' she sighed, reaching to brush the lock off his forehead. He caught her hand, and she let him hold it by his cheek, her mind for once empty of anything to say. They were close enough that she could feel his breath, or maybe it was hers, she couldn't be sure but her face felt very hot.

The kiss was slow at first, his lips rough against hers, but the explosion inside her stomach was instantaneous. She found herself leaning into him even as her mind screamed _this is Scorpius Malfoy!_ and he grasped her waist, holding her close. She was reaching to tangle her hands in his silky blond hair when suddenly they were on his chest instead and she was pushing him away. Turning away from his expression of confusion and hurt, she took a few steps away from him.

'Rose?'

'I need to go - I can't deal with this, not now!'

'Rose, wait!'

But for the second time that night, she was running away from a boy down a staircase, and once again she found herself in tears, although this time she couldn't be sure why.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Everyone was in bed by the time Scorpius arrived back at the Slytherin Dungeons. He hadn't realised how late - or early - it was until he found the house dark and quiet but for a few night owls sat reading or drinking by lamplight. The only sound in the dormitory was Zabini's snores, although as Scorpius slid into bed he heard Albus roll over in the next bed.

'Scorpius?'

Scorpius said nothing, and a moment later he heard Albus' breathing even out again as he fell back asleep. The slightly crooked hands of the clock on his bedside table read thirteen minutes past two. He rolled over, and pulled his covers up to his chin.

Sleep, however, seemed to be all used up by the rest of the school, as Scorpius lay awake all night, his head filled with thought after thought. The memory of the kiss spun around his mind, expanding inside his head until it ached, and then every possible scenario of what would happen now flashed through instead. Whichever way he lay, whether he pulled the blankets over his head or kicked them off his body entirely, counting past a hundred or trying to think of nothing at all, he couldn't get his mind to shut off. Finally, he noticed the pale, green-tinted light coming through the dormitory window and gave up.

Sliding out of bed, he padded across the dormitory to the bathroom. Even after showering, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible, and pulling on some clean robes it was hardly past seven. The rest of the dormitory was still fast asleep. He made his bed and then headed for breakfast, thinking that maybe Rose would also be there early and then they could talk without everyone seeing.

But the Great Hall was almost empty, and after scanning it three times Scorpius had to admit that Rose wasn't there. He'd seen the lack of red curls as soon as he walked in, anyway. Turning away from the Gryffindor table, he crossed the hall to sit at the Slytherin table instead. There were a handful of students there already, and he knew a couple of them, but he sat apart and stuck some eggs and bacon on his plate, trying not to watch the doors too much. He didn't want to look creepy.

He'd got through roughly half an egg and a bite of bacon when his friends arrived, jostling and joking as they settled down around him. Fitzroy and Langwith were midway through some argument, but Scorpius didn't bother to listen. The rest of the school had trickled in, and then as it got later poured, but Rose was still absent. Albus glanced at him as he reached over to the toast rack.

'What happened to you last night?'

'Nothing,' said Scorpius, 'just working late.'

'We were surprised this morning, you didn't make a peep all night, and then you were gone when we got up.' Scorpius nodded absent-mindedly. He'd been having strange, disturbed dreams ever since coming back from his suspension, but he couldn't quite find enough attention to care about his roommates' dwindling patience with his nighttime terrors.

At that moment, Rose had walked into Great Hall with two of her friends. One of them had her arm around her, and they sat down at the Gryffindor table with their backs to the Slytherins, but not before Rose glanced around and, just for a second, their eyes met across the hall. Scorpius looked away and feigned interest in the conversation around him.

Ten minutes before lessons started, Rose and her friends stood up to leave, and Scorpius found himself standing up as well. The others stared at him, Fitzroy and Langwith smirking. 'You alright, Malfoy? Want to say a speech?' asked Zabini, and they all sniggered.

'I'll see you guys at Potions,' he muttered, and swinging his bag over his shoulder he hurried out of the hall. He wasn't sure if Rose's friends were also in his Potions class, he always just registered the other Gryffindors as a vaguely amorphous mass, but he was sure he could get Rose alone, ask to talk about some Prefect-type issue. He'd come up with something on the spot, that was always his technique.

It was only when he reached the Entrance Hall, and Rose was hardly ten feet away from him, that the nerves hit like a fat Bludger and he found himself frantically trying to wipe the sweat off his palms. Rose and her friends were headed towards the dungeons and he hurried to cut them off.

'Hey - Weasl-Rose … Weasley, could I talk to you?' he stuttered, trying to turn it into a passably casual tone, although his cheeks were suddenly feeling rather hot. Rose said nothing, but before she could one of her friends spoke instead.

'Oh piss off, Malfoy! Can't you leave Rose alone for once?'

'Yeah, you're always such an arsehole about things, give it a rest!' snapped the other, scowling.

Scorpius ignored them and stared at Rose. She was still silent, but her eyes rose to look into Scorpius', and her mouth opened slightly as if to speak. But her friend tugged her hand, and she closed her mouth again, turning away from him. He felt her brush past his shoulder and listened to their footsteps retreating down the dungeon steps behind him, feeling his heart sink lower and lower as they did.

If his friends were surprised that, instead of their usual table, Scorpius went and sat in the far back corner, they did not say anything. Their usual table was across from Rose, and Scorpius thought that if they were so close, and it was so obvious that she was ignoring him, then he'd end up hurling his cauldron across the dungeon room.

The only problem with his new seat was that it was very difficult to keep Rose out of his line of sight, and this proved to be very distracting. Also, the two Gryffindors on the table in front of them were gossiping about what had happened at James Potter's party the night before, and apparently Rose's breakup with her witless boyfriend was hot topic.

'Can't imagine why she broke up with him, he's dreamy,' said the girl.

'Yeah, you must be ready to crack on with him, eh Felicity?' joked the boy.

'Yeah, just a shame he's an arsehole,' muttered Scorpius, but in the echoing dungeon filled with the sound of crackling fires and bubbling potions, no one heard but Albus, who just glanced at him askance.

At the end of the lesson, Scorpius' potion was an overcooked mess and he knew he'd get his lowest mark yet, but he was just happy to be able to cork it and escape the mental torture of being trapped close to Rose Weasley and unable to speak to her. After break they were in separate lessons, and Scorpius was able to transfigure his muskrat into a sizeable mandolin without too much trouble.

He didn't see Rose again, in fact, until the following night when they both had Prefect duties to carry out. They supervised half a dozen kids in detention for an hour in a forced silence, both of them stubbornly looking at their own work or watching the other students rather than look at them. The hour of detention seemed ten times as long as usual, but finally the clock struck nine and they sent the students off to bed. The door swung shut behind the last girl, and there was a few seconds of silence. Scorpius felt suddenly at a loss over what to say.

'So, how've you been?' he asked finally, glancing at her out the corner of his eye.

'Fine,' she said, busying herself with tidying her things.

'Yes, clearly you don't seem to have been bothered by anything at all over the last forty-eight hours.'

She looked at him, finally. 'What are you on about, Malfoy?'

He shrugged, picking at an imaginary piece of dirt under his nail. 'Oh, nothing much. Just didn't expect you of all people to kiss someone and then blank them for two days.'

'Oh, wind your neck in, Malfoy!' snapped Rose, and he couldn't help but be surprised at her sudden flare up. 'You're acting like I jumped you and dumped you.'

'It's not far off!' he retorted.

'Yes, Malfoy, because you have so much right to judge a girl. It's just because I'm not falling at your feet and gagging for your attention, like every other girl you pursue, isn't it?'

'Excuse me? At least I've tried to talk to you!'

'Yes, you cornered me once, on my way to lessons, when I was with my friends, the morning after I broke up with my boyfriend. Well done, that must've taken a lot of effort on your part. Merlin, have some empathy and tact!'

'Empathy and tact?'

'Yes! Do you really think that I want to even think about boys, let alone you, so soon after ending things with Daniel? Did you not even think I wanted some space from all that?'

'You certainly seemed to want space, when we were necking it on the Astronomy Tower!' sneered Scorpius, feeling his own anger rise. 'Yes, really taking some time for yourself, weren't you Weasley?'

For a moment, he wondered if Rose was going to slap him, but instead she just stood up and grabbed her schoolbag. 'I think it's best if we patrol separately tonight, Malfoy. And for the future, too. We should leave each other alone.'

'What?'

'Just stay away from me!'

Scorpius watched her go, reeling internally from the fight. It certainly wasn't how he expected their conversation to go. He thought that she'd be apologetic for how she'd acted over the past two days, saying that she was sorry for not trying to speak earlier. How wrong he'd been.

He packed up his own things and headed back to the Slytherin Dungeons, figuring that taking a slightly longer route around the castle would count as a patrol. His friends were gathered around one of the fireplaces with a bottle of whisky between them and didn't comment on his early return. They were talking about upcoming plans, and Scorpius realised that there was the first Hogsmeade weekend of March approaching.

'I mean, I have a date,' said Zabini, leaning forward to refill his glass from the bottle. 'But I could catch up with you lot later, or tell her to meet me in the village.'

'Who is it this time, Zabini?' asked Langwith.

'Giselda Marlhart,' he said, unable to hide the smallest of smug smiles at having bagged one of the prettiest girls in Ravenclaw House. 'In fact, scratch that. As it is a Marlhart, I'll spend all day with her and you lot can bloody deal with it.'

'Fine with us, we're happy to get a respite from your dull mug,' retorted Fitzroy. 'But you'll be back for the party on Saturday night?'

'Of course I'll be back for the party on Saturday night,' said Zabini.

'Lies.'

'Definite lies,' said Albus and Adelaide together. Scorpius noticed that they were sat close together on the sofa, and seemed to be sharing cigarettes. Zabini just smirked, and Fitzroy turned to Scorpius.

'What about you, Malfoy? You have Hogsmeade privileges, right? Your little misdemeanour hasn't meant a ban?'

'No, of course not.'

'So you're coming with us? Or have you sourced yourself a little date as well?' asked Langwith.

Scorpius was opening his mouth to agree that he would go to Hogsmeade with them, when the memory of Rose yelling that they should stay away from each other floated through his mind and he abruptly changed tack. 'You know what, I think I might get a cheeky little date,' he said, smirking. 'I've been letting things slide a little.'

'It is true, ever since you overdosed on a highly illegal drug you haven't exactly been top of the dating game,' said Langwith. Scorpius just winked at him and stood up, strolling over to a gaggle of some of the prettiest Fourth and Fifth Year girls in Slytherin House. Completing a quick scan, he leant over to one, a Fourth Year girl named Villette Ramsey, with his most charming smile.

'Hey Villette, want to get a drink with me in Hogsmeade this weekend?' he asked. She looked impressively impassive, although her cheeks did become a little pink. There was a pause as she glanced at her girlfriends, who were all watching.

'I said that I would spend Saturday with my friends,' she said, with a hint of a French accent.

'Maybe I can convince them to spare you for just a couple of hours?' he said, glancing around at them all. They all nodded, their heads bobbing in unison, although a few were squinting a little suspiciously. 'Alright, see you Saturday Villette. I'll pick you up in the Entrance Hall.'

He strolled back to the others with a smug smile, ignoring their exasperated sighs and rolled eyes. Fitzroy was becoming particularly annoyed. 'Right, so as you and Zabini have decided that girls are more important, guess its just you and me, Langwith, with the girls.'

'And me,' said Albus between biting his fingernail. Vittoria slapped him on the hand to make him stop but he just grinned and pretended to slap her back.

'You are one of the girls, Albus,' said Fitzroy dismissively.

'In that case, it's just you and the girls Fitzy, I'm not going to Hogsmeade at all,' said Langwith.

'Excuse me?'

'I told you, I'm not in Hogwarts this weekend. Flint's given me permission to spend it at home in London.'

'Why?'

'None of your business, Fitzy my friend,' said Langwith, winking.

'Some friend you are,' muttered Fitzroy grumpily, but Langwith just smiled and said nothing more.

As it was, Albus was quietly becoming more and more annoyed with Scorpius. They hadn't had much of a chance to hang out properly since the chaos of the overdose, and he'd been looking forward to them spending time together, like they used to. But instead Scorpius had decided on a whim to ask a random girl out, and he'd probably be distracted with her the entire day.

His whisky was leaving a bad taste in his mouth and suddenly the conversation seemed inane and stupid, so Albus stood up abruptly and left. He went back to the dormitory, kicked off his shoes, and was just sitting down on his bed with a book and a cigarette when the door opened. He was mildly surprised to see Scorpius following him into the room. Albus ignored him for a while, flicking through his book to find the right page and then rummaging in his pockets for a lighter. There weren't smoke alarms in Hogwarts, so although it was against the rules he could smoke wherever he damn liked.

He was halfway through his chapter and his cigarette when Scorpius sat down on his own bed, already in pyjamas. 'You alright, Albus?' asked Scorpius, reclining onto his bed. Albus said nothing. He was tempted to divulge the whole well of anger and frustration that had been building up since his best friend's sudden absence, but even as the words were on the tip of his tongue he changed his mind. He felt suddenly too tired for any of it. He decided that dealing with Scorpius' overdose took the last of his energy. If Scorpius was going to be like this, then he wasn't going to chase him.

'When did you start smoking in bed?'

Albus shrugged. 'You want one?'

'No, I'm giving up. Bowles says no smoking for the Quidditch team,' he said, lying with his head propped up on his arms. 'I'm surprised I'm on the team still, to be honest, but I guess it helps that I played well in the last match, and Bowles doesn't want to train up a new person, especially as us Chasers have got nicely in sync, you know?'

'Yeah. I shouldn't sabotage your chances, then. I'll keep the smoke away from you,' said Albus, and he flicked his wand so that the curtains of his bed snapped shut around him and Scorpius disappeared from view.

The school awoke on Saturday morning to find a steady drizzle pattering the windows, and with a general groan recognised that the fairly good weather of the past fortnight was over. Hogsmeade weekends were always a little less fun in the rain, as most students ended up packing out the Three Broomsticks instead of traipsing about the village.

Albus and Scorpius didn't exchange a word as they got up and dressed. They left the dormitory separately, Scorpius going with Zabini to find their dates while Albus waited for Fitzroy to finish getting ready. As he walked up to the entrance hall with a taciturn Zabini, Scorpius wondered what it could be that had pissed Albus off. By the top of the dungeon steps, he'd decided that as Albus clearly wasn't forthcoming with whatever the problem was, it wasn't Scorpius' place to pursue him and find out. He had his own things on his plate, and he wasn't a mindreader anyway.

Him and Zabini were midway through breakfast when the post arrived, and out of habit Scorpius looked up at the swarm of owls, looking for the familiar pattern of tawny grey feathers, but nothing dropped down to him. His owl Pheidippides hadn't visited him for a while now. His father had sent a curt letter after he'd arrived back at Hogwarts, stating that his behaviour during Scorpius' suspension was out of character. He didn't exactly say he was sorry, but he did say he wouldn't act that way again and Scorpius saw that as his way of apologising. His mother hadn't written at all. He supposed that as she had just moved to Paris, her life must be particularly busy. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little twinge of disappointment - didn't she care at all about how he was getting on?

Villette Ramsey joined him in the Entrance Hall, looking particularly pretty in a red skirt and black knitted sweater, her dark bobbed hair curling slightly around her face. He put an arm around her back and they set off towards the doors with the steady stream of other students. The drizzle had become a steady rain, but Scorpius cast a charm over their heads that was like an invisible umbrella so the raindrops disappeared half a foot above their heads.

He hadn't been sure what they'd find to talk about, but Scorpius was pleasantly surprised at how easy, if slightly banal, the conversation was. They reached the village with out too many awkward silences, and after a quick look in the windows of the shops they ducked into the Three Broomsticks to escape the weather.

'Take a seat, I'll buy you a drink,' he said, pulling out a chair for her at one of the few empty tables. They were squeezed in between a large group of Third Years - who still viewed Hogsmeade trips as an exciting novelty - and a gaggle of Fifth Year boys who were having a loud debate about whether Quodpot could ever live up to Quidditch.

As he leant against the crowded bar, waiting for his two Butterbeers, he gave the packed out pub a quick scan. Albus and the others weren't there, but he did eventually spot the familiar figure of Rose sat by a window at the back. She'd tucked most of her hair, always so recognisable, into a beanie and she was almost entirely obscured by the boy opposite her, but it was definitely her. As he looked over at her, he realised that she was virtually surrounded by boys. Half of them were members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, including the two new players who'd replaced McLaggen and Finnigan and become almost instant celebrities by destroying Hufflepuff in their match two weeks later.

The more he looked, the more it angered him. How dare she say she wasn't in the mood for boys and drama, that she just wanted space, and then turn up to Hogsmeade literally surrounded by boys? It was completely out of line, in his opinion. There was only one other girl there, who he vaguely recognised because she was always with Rose. He was so caught up in watching her chat and laugh with all the boys - and girl - that he didn't notice his drinks had been poured until there was a loud "Oi" in his ear and he looked around to see the barman glaring at him.

'Sorry,' he muttered, and setting two Sickles down on the bar he grabbed the flagons and headed back to where Villette was sat. 'Sorry, the queue took ages.'

'It is fine,' she said, a little stiffly, but Scorpius found it impossible to slip back into easy chatting with her and their conversation became stilted, awkward. After a few minutes, Scorpius saw Rose out of the corner of his eye, standing up and grabbing her cloak off the back of her chair.

'Sorry - I'm just going to get some air. Feeling a bit light-headed, you know?' he said hurriedly, giving Villette's hand a squeeze and attempting a winning smile, but she had already turned away, her lips pursed into a pout. He stood up and hurried after Rose, who'd just left the pub, catching the door as it was swinging shut.

He caught a glimpse of her cloak whipping around the corner into an alleyway and hurried after her. The alley was a common shortcut through the village. 'Rose!'

She turned around, her expression cold. 'Why are you following me, Malfoy?'

'Since when was I "Malfoy" again, _Weasley_?' he retorted.

'Maybe ever since you decided to prance about Hogsmeade with some random girl on your arm!' snapped Rose.

'Oh, what, so you said that you don't want us to be anywhere near each other, but now you're getting angry that I'm with other girls?' he said, raising his eyebrows. They were almost nose to nose, now. 'And what about you? Turning up with half-a-dozen boys like you've got your very own harem!'

'They're my friends,' she said, glaring at him, her dark eyes reduced to slits.

'Sure they are.'

'Are you getting jealous, Malfoy?' she asked, the corners of her mouth turning up in a satisfied smirk. He leant forward, staring into her eyes.

'Of course I'm jealous,' he said, 'but not as jealous as I think I made you.'

She stared at him in shock for a moment, but then they were kissing, and he was wrapping his arms around her and pressing her against the wall of the alley. He didn't care that the rain was drumming on his back, soaking through his robes, because he had Rose in his arms and she was holding onto him, pulling him closer. There was such intensity in the kiss that he didn't even want to pull away to breathe, he gladly would've lost consciousness just to keep kissing her, but then her hands were on his chest, pushing him gently but firmly away.

'Wait, stop,' she murmured, and he felt that weight in his chest again, sinking down to his stomach. 'We can't do this, Scorpius. We can't.'

And she was turning away and hurrying off down the alley, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head as she did. Scorpius watched her for a few seconds and then turned to walk in the opposite direction. He was deep in thought and bumped into a girl standing at the end of the alley. 'Sorry,' he muttered, and then after a few seconds he realised the girl was staring at him with an expression of unmistakeable fury. He recognised her as a Fourth Year Slytherin named Allaria, and like a puzzle piece falling into place he suddenly realised why she looked so angry at him.

'How dare you!' she cried, as he began to back away. 'My friend is sat in there on a date with you, and I find you kissing another girl in an alleyway? You slut, Malfoy!'

She was speaking very loudly, and a crowd began to form around them as students noticed what was going on. The door to the Three Broomsticks had opened and Villette stepped out with a few others, looking incredibly dejected, and Scorpius couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He had certainly mistreated her.

'What is going on?' she asked, frowning at Scorpius.

'Malfoy was kissing some girl in that alleyway!' cried Allaria before he could say anything, and Villette expression changed from dejection to fury.

'How dare you!'

'I can explain!' cried Scorpius, although he really had no idea how to explain it, and anyway a second later he was flying through the air as Villette flicked her wand at him. He hit the ground smack in the middle of a large puddle, and winced as the icy water immediately soaked his clothes. It trickled down his neck and through his hair, chilling him. Laughter erupted around him as he scrabbled in the dirt for his wand, which had fallen out his hand in the fall. Villette cast another jinx and suddenly it was as if an Erumpent was sat on his chest, and he flailed helplessly like a flipped turtle under the invisible weight, inciting more laughter.

When the weight finally began to lessen, he craned his head and saw Villette and her friends walking away. He could sit up but he collapsed back onto the ground again, exhausted by the whole encounter, not even caring that he was in a puddle nor that the rain was soaking him even more. The memory of Rose and the alleyway was replaying in his mind, rather than the humiliation from Villette, and most of all the last thing she said to him. We can't do this, Scorpius. We can't. Because the way that she'd said it, the we was emphasised, so she was saying that the problem was them, not what they were doing.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Albus and the others looming over him, smirks on their faces. He supposed he must've been quite a sight, soaked to the skin and covered in dirt.

'Kissing a girl in an alleyway while on a date with another one. That's cold even for you, Malfoy,' said Vittoria, as Albus and Fitzroy helped him to his feet. 'Care to share who this mystery lady is?'

'No one,' muttered Scorpius, and despite pestering from all four of them he refused to say a word.

'Anyway, as you won't tell us your news Scorpius, we'll tell you ours. We've got tickets for this festival that's happening not far from here, at the start of May. It's for the same weekend as the first Hogsmeade of term, so we figure that no one will notice us sneaking off. It's called Inverfest and it's meant to be excellent. What do you think?' said Albus.

'A Muggle festival?' asked Scorpius between shivers. He was still soaked and becoming extremely cold, even with jets of warm air from his and Adelaide's wands.

'Yes, it's Muggle, but loads of witches and wizards go. I think everyone does so many drugs there that they don't take much notice of people appearing and disappearing, or anything else weird,' said Fitzroy.

'So we're all going?'

'Leo and I can't,' said Vittoria grumpily. 'We're not seventeen yet so we can't Apparate.'

Scorpius always forgot that the Zabinis had their birthdays in August - they always acted so much older than everyone that it was strange they were the youngest. He'd had his own seventeenth in October, during the fiasco with his father. He was pretty sure his family's house elf Bally had bought all his presents, including the gold plated watch with tiny silver constellations instead of numbers. He'd never used it, preferring his old worn one with a leather strap, because at least he'd bought that with his parents.

'By the way,' said Albus as they walked, speaking in a low tone so the others wouldn't hear. 'It's my seventeenth over Easter, so I'll be at home, but do you want to come stay at mine for a few days over it?'

'Definitely,' said Scorpius with a broad grin. He always enjoyed staying with the Potters, they were such a classically loud, fun family that it felt a world away from his own home.

'Are you with your mum or your dad for the holidays?' asked Albus.

'I don't know,' muttered Scorpius. He felt Albus glance at him and stared down at his feet instead. He hadn't spoken to either of his parents for ages, let alone about plans for the holidays. His mother still hadn't replied to his last letter, and as for his father … he felt a strange tightening in his stomach at the thought of spending weeks alone with his father. True, he'd had that letter from him saying that his behaviour during the suspension was just a result of stress, and that he would never treat him like that again, but even so. Something about his father had changed since the divorce, and he felt like a different person, like a side of him that Scorpius had only seen once or twice before in his life was now the controlling part of his character. Perhaps he'd just stay at Hogwarts, and use Flint's fireplace to get to the Potters by the Floo Network.

'It'll work out,' said Albus quietly, and as Scorpius looked up and saw the expression of sympathy and worry in his friend's face he felt a sudden wave of affection for his best friend.

The conversation moved on to lighter subjects, as the others started bantering about Scorpius being beaten in a duel by a girl two years younger than him, and they all made it to dinner in surprisingly good spirits. Scorpius sat down with Albus, the two of them chattering like they had before the last few months had happened, and wondered if maybe things were back to normal. Yes, Rose had blanked him in the Entrance Hall, but this time he pushed it out his mind for a while and caught up with Albus.

In the end, Scorpius wrote to his parents to say that he had to stay in Hogwarts for the holidays to get on top of work, and to train for the Quidditch final. It wasn't really lying, as he was horribly behind with his schoolwork and Bowles had asked the whole team to stay in Hogwarts for Easter to train. Neither of his parents replied, anyway.

'Why don't you just spend Easter with me?' asked Albus when Scorpius told him. 'My parents won't care, they like you!'

'It's fine, Albus, really,' said Scorpius, flicking through his Transfiguration textbook. They were trying to work through a particularly difficult essay that Foxworth had set on experimental physiological transfigurations, and he'd restarted three times already. 'I've got about a dozen essays to write, and Bowles is scheduling about a hundred hours of training. I'll be at yours for your birthday and Easter weekend, Flint says its fine to use his fireplace.'

'Of course he does, you are his favourite,' said Albus without looking up from his essay. To Scorpius' annoyance, he was a whole foot of parchment ahead of him.

'I am not!'

'You are too. He single-handedly delayed your expulsion when you overdosed, apparently. Otherwise you would've been expelled before you even woke up, and we wouldn't have had time to find the real culprit.'

'How on earth do you know that?' asked Scorpius.

'Overheard Professor Longbottom telling my parents - remember they're mates? So, you'd better be nice to Flint.'

'Huh.' Scorpius had never been under the impression that he was any teacher's favourite, he always thought teachers preferred bookish kids like Albus, or naturally brilliant ones like Rose.

The term drew to a close and Scorpius waved Albus onto the Hogwarts Express back to London in Hogsmeade, and then headed back up to the castle alone. The sudden absence of hundreds of students had made the castle oddly quiet, and every sound seemed magnified as Scorpius walked back to the dungeons. He always found it strange, being suddenly alone, but he hadn't thought how odd it would be to be in Hogwarts, which was so naturally busy the whole time.

Meanwhile, Albus sat on the Hogwarts Express with the rest of his friends - except Fitzroy, who was also supposedly staying in Hogwarts for training and catchup on work - and wondered if he should've convinced Scorpius to stay with him all Easter. It would've made the holiday much more interesting, but on the other hand all the little lies he told his parents about his life seemed so much more complicated when he had friends around. Of course, most of their parents were either absent or didn't care, so they didn't have to lie.

He imagined the long weeks ahead of him, of pretending to like those awful comfortable clothes and trying to ignore his siblings, of hiding his drinking and smoking and going cold turkey from drugs altogether, and sighed deeply. He loved his family, of course, but they were just such a pain to be around.

To his surprise, both his father and mother were waiting for him at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, with broad smiles on their faces. As he always did when he saw them again, Albus felt a small tinge of regret at how much trouble he put them through. He made a brief resolution to try harder and be better behaved, knowing in the back of his mind that he'd end up slipping back into his old habits again at the slightest provocation.

With his work up to date and no exams waiting for him, Albus had little to fill the long, overcast days, except wandering the surrounding countryside and reading. He got bored of walking quite quickly, so he always chose the shortest route up to the top of a nearby hill, which had a ridge overlooking Ottery St Catchpole and all the way to the next hill. He could smoke up there, and read in peace, and his parents didn't enquire much about what he was up to when he was out the house.

Most of all, what set in was a feeling of loneliness. It was an odd sort of melancholy, that absence of company or action in his life, and he couldn't help but shake the feeling that all his friends were somewhere else having a brilliant time without him. Even though they, of course, were probably all holed up and bored in their own separate homes or the emptied out Hogwarts. He sighed, and lit another cigarette.

After more than a fortnight of these long, slow days, the arrival of Albus' birthday felt like a cannon blast in a church service. He was awoken at seven in the morning by both his siblings bursting into the room and leaping onto him, shoving a kazoo in his mouth while blowing their own kazoos triumphantly and filling his room with the confetti that burst from them while a nasal Ode to Joy played from them. Clearly, they were a purchase from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

'Piss off,' groaned Albus, attempting to pull his pillow over his head but finding it wrested from his hands by Lily, who then hit him with it. 'This is not how you're supposed to treat someone on their birthday!'

'This is not how you're supposed to act on your birthday!' she retorted.

'Yeah, get up Al!' James took a second from furious blowing his kazoo to sing at him. 'You should do some magic!'

In response, Albus reached out and felt for his wand on his bedside table. Closing his hand around it, he pointed it at James and Lily and blew both of them off his bed and right out the room, the door swinging shut behind him. Ignoring their laughter, he attempted to snatch some more sleep, but it was now impossible and after a few minutes he gave up. They'd left his curtains wide open and weak sunlight was filling the room, birdsong sounding annoyingly cheery outside the window.

A while later, he entered the kitchen fully dressed and found his father was just finishing cooking breakfast while his mother put the finishing touches on the table. His parents had always been quite over the top about birthdays - his father claiming that it was because his were always so bad when he was young and he wanted to make up for it - and the stack of presents and decorations was the biggest Albus had ever seen. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. There were an inordinate amount of balloons, streamers, and miniature cannons blowing out confetti, with a big banner saying 'Happy Birthday Albus' across the wall.

His father was just serving them all breakfast when there was a commotion in the next room, and as they looked around someone called out 'Erm … hello?'

'That's Scorpius,' said Albus, taking his plate of eggs, bacon, and waffles, and a moment later his best friend wandered into the room, a broad smile on his face and a few smudges of soot on his face and clothes.

'Scorpius!' exclaimed everyone, as Albus' mother and father jumped up to greet him and Albus grinned from the table. Scorpius smiled sheepishly, shaking Albus' father's hand and accepting a hug from his mother, who then ushered him to a seat next to Albus.

'It's so lovely to see you, Scorpius,' said Albus' mother, as his father handed Scorpius a plate loaded with food.

'Thank you for having me,' said Scorpius, seeming a little nervous with all the extra attention. Albus couldn't blame him.

After breakfast they all neatened up and headed across the village to Albus' grandparents' house, where the full menagerie of relatives and family friends had already arrived. Birthdays in general were a big thing in the Weasley household, and seventeenths' even more so. The 'Happy birthday' banner was stretched across the whole first story of the house, with a portrait of Albus the size of a window. He cringed at the sight of it.

They were greeted at the gate by a small boy with bright blue hair, which promptly switched to pale blond at the sight of Scorpius. Albus' cousin Victoire appeared soon after, running after the toddler as fast as her pregnant belly would allow her to.

'Hello!' she called with a smile and wave, before catching hold of the boy who screamed in delight. 'Remy, we told you! No running in the front garden! Happy birthday, Albus.'

She bore the giggling little boy off and the Potters plus Scorpius trouped after her round the side of the house, where the rest of the overgrown family was spread across the equally overgrown garden. They were immediately swamped, especially Albus, who felt like the greetings would last forever. Every time he managed to end a conversation with a relative, another one would appear, and none of them were the relatives he particularly wanted to see.

Scorpius, meanwhile, had sat down alone and was quietly observing the whole chaotic scene. It was entirely alien to him, but he always found a comfort in the strangeness whenever he visited the Potters and Weasleys.

'It can be a little overwhelming, can't it.'

He glanced around, and saw Hermione Granger stood behind him. 'Minister for Magic!' he exclaimed, rising from his chair, but she waved a hand.

'Please, don't. Call me Hermione.' She sat down beside him, smoothing her neat blue robes over her knees. 'As I was saying, it can be a little overwhelming, seeing all the Weasleys together for the first time. This is your first time seeing everyone together, isn't it? I found it strange when i first came, being an only child with only a handful of distant relatives, but you get used to it.'

Privately, Scorpius thought that it would've been very different for Hermione Granger. As much as she may have found it odd, he didn't think she'd have felt quite so out of place as he did. She seemed to sense the thoughts going through his mind, as she continued with:

'You're not as out of place as you think you are, Scorpius.'

'Oh - I…right…well, I …' He trailed off, staring down at his hands and blushing slightly. He couldn't help but think of Rose, and what the esteemed Minister for Magic might say if she knew exactly what he'd been doing with her daughter. She might not be quite so friendly then.

'I hear from Rose that you've been having a tough time.'

He looked around, feeling the heat rising up his neck. 'Rose mentioned me?'

'Of course, she always does when she's telling me about Albus. I think that you two get on better than you think you do,' said Hermione with a small smile. 'Anyway, I heard about that nastiness with the Basilisk Powder and all - awful stuff - and I am sorry, its the last thing you need. I hope you've recovered.'

'Yes.'

'Good. Because if I may say something that may come across as odd,' she said, leaning forward slightly, 'I've always thought you weren't as bad as Rose claims you are. Kingsley and all said you spoke well at your father's trial, and that's impressive. I know that Harry didn't do half as well when he had to go to a Wizengamot trial before his Fifth Year.'

'Mr Potter had to go to a Wizengamot trial?'

'Oh, it was nothing,' said Hermione with a mischievous grin. 'Anyway, I'd best be off, I haven't seen my family since yesterday. Have you seen Rose or Hugo?'

'No, sorry,' said Scorpius. He'd been looking out for Rose, obviously, but she wasn't anywhere in the garden. Hugo and Lily had been glimpsed briefly but had disappeared off with another younger cousin, Lucy, some time ago.

'They'll be around. Yes, I'm coming Ronald! Nice speaking to you, Scorpius.' He watched as the Minister for Magic made her way across the lawn to kiss her husband, and then went back to quietly looking at the whole scene.

Lunch was served on a long set of mismatched tables that were hovered out onto the lawn, and as platters of food began to emerge from the crooked old house the matriarch Mrs Weasley emerged, and with her emerged Rose. She was with a couple other cousins and some aunts and uncles, who'd clearly all been part of the food platoon, and Scorpius watched as she crossed the lawn with three vast bowls of salad floating before her. She set them down at intervals along the table, and then as she turned to go back to the house she turned towards him, and their eyes met across the garden.

'Hey!' Albus had arrived, finally, looking exhausted from greeting his countless relatives. 'Come on, let's go sit down.'

Scorpius sat beside Albus, and to his horror, Rose was seated almost directly opposite him. He felt as if every time he looked at her he was revealing everything to the whole table, so in response he tried his hardest not to look at her. As a result, he wasn't sure if she was looking at him at all, but every time he did risk a glance she seemed to be deeply focussed on the conversation around them or on her food.

The vast quantity of food disappeared surprisingly quickly, as did the three-tiered birthday cake modelled to resemble a stack of books, and it was the guests who were groaning instead of the tables. Rose stood up and began to clear the plates around them, and without thinking about it Scorpius stood up too. After an awkward pause, he collected some plates himself, and they and a couple of others headed into the kitchen.

The washing up brush was already hard at work on some pans in the sink, so Scorpius placed his stack of plates on the counter and then dawdled, pretending he needed to wash his hands, while Rose and her grandmother chattered lightly.

'Oh, Rose,' exclaimed Mrs Weasley as she reached the door to the garden with a large tea tray, 'I've forgotten the sugar. It's just in the larder - could you follow me out?'

Scorpius waited until Mrs Weasley had fully left the kitchen and then hurried after Rose, who was already in the larder. 'Rose, we need to talk.'

'It's a little weird to corner a girl in a cupboard, Scorpius,' hissed Rose, as he shut the door behind him.

'Don't be like that,' groaned Scorpius. 'Look, you're the one being tricky!'

'Me?'

'Yes, you! We kiss on the tower, you freak out and run away. You blank me for days, then we kiss again in Hogsmeade, and you run again! And what now, we just don't speak?' he said, not a little hotly.

'I … I just don't know,' whispered Rose, looking down away from him. 'Its difficult, you know it is. I just don't know how I feel, I can't work it out.'

'Well, start trying,' murmured Scorpius. She looked up at him, then put her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her to kiss. The kiss was gentle but firm, as their bodies pressed against each other, but it lasted just a few moments before there was the distinct sound of footsteps on the other side of the wall.

Rose shoved Scorpius away and he jumped behind the door a split second before it sprang open and Rose's grandmother reappeared.

'Are you alright, dear? I thought you were just behind me?'

'Sorry, Grandma, I'm still trying to find the sugar,' said Rose, quickly steadying her voice.

'It's just there, Rosie,' said Mrs Weasley, pointing to a large pot directly in front of Rose, and giving her a beady look. 'Are you quite alright? Not feeling ill, are you?'

'Not at all!' exclaimed Rose, grabbing the pot.

'Good - and where's that Scorpius? He's disappeared, too!'

Scorpius and Rose's eyes met, and they both turned brilliant red and looked quickly away from each other.

'I think he went to the bathroom,' said Rose, following her grandmother out the larder and shutting the door behind her. Scorpius waited until their footsteps had retreated out to the garden, and then followed at a safe distance.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was the first weekend of June, and the drizzle of the past ten days had cleared up, to be replaced by scudding clouds and a brisk wind. Albus and his friends set off for Hogsmeade after lunch, strolling through the castle grounds to the village just beyond its borders. This weekend, however, they bypassed all the shops and the Three Broomsticks, and headed straight for the far edge of the village. It was the weekend of Inverfest, and they were planning on sneaking out of Hogsmeade for it.

The shopping street was of course busy, but the crowds petered out towards the far end, and as they turned away from the Shrieking Shack and went in the opposite direction, they soon found themselves completely alone.

'Alright, here's good,' said Scorpius, a minute after they'd lost sight of the last few students. They all stopped and pulled off their cloaks, stuffing them into their bags. Underneath, they were all in Muggle clothes, of course.

'So just remember, you lot need to be back by seven pm, or you need to stay out all night and sneak back in the morning. Got it?' said Vittoria.

'Yes, Vittoria, we've said this a hundred times,' said Fitzroy. 'Enjoy your weekend without us, Zabinis!'

The twins glared at him, but Fitzroy's grin only broadened. They all stepped apart slightly, nodded to each other, and then began to Apparate, popping out of sight one by one until only Albus remained. He gave the twins a nod, and then turned on the spot and was pulled suddenly into complete darkness, with the familiar pressure like he'd been forced into a rubber tube. A second of suffocation, then sunlight suddenly burst brilliantly around him and his feet found solid ground. He stumbled on the grass a little, and Scorpius caught him.

'We made it?'

'We made it,' said Scorpius with a broad grin. 'You've splinched off a chunk of your hair, by the way, but don't worry it'll grow back.' He laughed as Albus felt for it and found an inch square of baldness.

'Oh, fuck!'

'Don't worry about it! Look around - we're at our first festival.'

The whole scene spread out in front of them. It was so strange and quirky that he could've believed it was magical, if they weren't obviously surrounded by Muggles. Now that he looked around, they were all quite out of place in their clothes, as all the real Muggles had bedecked themselves in such garish combinations that they resembled wizards attempting to disguise themselves. The irony wasn't lost on Albus, as one boy his age wandered past in a pair of wellingtons, swimming trunks, and a neon string vest. He wondered how they weren't all dying of hypothermia, dressed as if it was a Mediterranean beach rather than a Scottish hillside.

'Look! There's Archie Higgins, he's the year above us in Hufflepuff, isn't he?'

'We didn't see him sneak out!'

'I think there's some more witches and wizards over there, look at that gaggle by that food stand.'

'Come on, let's go get drinks.'

They bought a round of Muggle beers and settled down on the grass near one of the stages. A boy, who looked hardly older than they were, was at the front of the stage strumming his guitar and moaning into the microphone while the rest of his band played quietly in the background. Albus thought they weren't half bad for a Muggle band, although they all needed a proper haircut and some dress sense. Who decided that straggly hair, plaid shirts, and lumberjack boots were all back in fashion?

After a while they'd finished their drinks and went to explore the festival a little more. Winding their way through the milling crowds, they passed tents selling trinkets and souvenir t-shirts, vans serving every sort of food Albus could think of, and further beyond row upon row of smaller tents, where all the Muggles obviously slept. It was all extremely dirty, especially the rudimentary toilets, but he forced himself to ignore that.

As the afternoon drifted on and the sun began to hang low in the sky, the whole festival gained a strange golden hue, and the sun shining through the cloud created streaks of light across the sky. Albus found himself stood with Adelaide on a stretch of grass near a stage, the others slightly in front, and as he looked at her he saw the light seemed to have caught her hair so that it seemed filled with fine filaments of gold amongst the auburn. She looked up at him with a smile, and he wondered if he'd ever been in such a romantic situation.

Suddenly feeling very brave indeed - perhaps because the Muggle beer they'd been drinking was much stronger than Butterbeer - he found himself saying: 'Adelaide … I was wondering … if you'd like to go for a drink with me? Just us? I mean, only if you want to, I just thought…' He trailed off, looking away and kicking himself inwardly for this colossal moment of idiocy. What was he thinking? He'd never be able to look her in the eye again.

But he did manage to look at her again, and when he did he saw she was smiling. She was incredibly beautiful. She slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. 'I was wondering if you'd ever ask, Albus.'

'So … yes?'

'Of course.'

He leant forward and kissed her gently on the lips, wishing he could spend the rest of his life right in that moment. He'd been ignoring it for months, making himself believe that they were friends and that was it, that it was better that way. But as they held each other and kissed, he couldn't believe he'd ever let himself think that.

'Hey, you two!'

They broke apart and looked around: Fitzroy was grinning at them from up ahead. At some point he'd tied a bandana around his forehead, his curls sprouting over the top, and Albus thought he looked as idiotic as all the Muggle festival goers.

'What?'

'We're going into the crowd close to the stage, so come along if you're done necking each other.'

They laughed sheepishly and set off after the others. The three boys walked slightly ahead, joking and trying to spot other magical folk in the crowd milling about them. It was difficult, in a crowd where no one seemed to know how to dress properly, and they'd soon turned it into a game.

'My wiz-dar is just way ahead of you two,' boasted Fitzroy, pointing at a pair of girls in thigh-high waterproof boots. 'Definitely witches.'

'Wiz-dar?' queried Langwith, glancing at him. At some point during the day they'd convinced him to let a strange man in a stall style his hair, and he now had thick streaks of hot pink and silver through his dark locks, and a braid of silver links and white thread.

'Like a radar, only for wizards,' explained Scorpius.

'Oh, in that case you're categorically wrong, Fitzroy.'

'What? I've spotted way more people than you have!'

'It doesn't count if they're not actually wizards, Fitz! One guy you spotted was actually wearing a hat with an umbrella on it. That's not a wizard, that's just a weirdo.'

'Oh, shut up. What about that guy? He's got to be a wizard,' said Fitzroy, indicating to a figure about thirty feet away. Scorpius jumped slightly, as the man seemed to have appeared out of thin air. He supposed it was silly to be spooked by people Apparating, but it was surprising in such a crowded and non-magical area. The guy would be up in front of the Improper Use of Magic office if he wasn't careful.

But the man didn't seem to be trying to be inconspicuous - he was swathed in a long black cloak, with the hood pulled up over his face, and so stuck out like a mole amongst the colourful festival-goers around him. As Scorpius looked, something about the man made him uneasy. There was just something undeniably sinister about him, stood still and alone, his face shadowy under the hood.

'Guys - doesn't that man look a bit too strange?' he said, nudging Fitzroy and Langwith who'd taken no notice of the man beyond pointing out that he was a wizard. They looked around, but at the same moment the strange wizard pulled out his wand.

'Merlin!' said Fitzroy.

Something clicked in Scorpius' mind and he started towards the man, a horrible feeling growing in his stomach that something awful was about to happen. He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the man, who was staring at the milling crowd of Muggles waiting for the music to start. Behind him, he heard the gasps and exclamations from his friends, and for just a second he hesitated, unsure, and in that same instant the man turned and stared directly at him.

Things moved quickly after that. Scorpius raised his wand, a spell forming in his mind, but at the same moment the cloaked man raised his wand, and Scorpius felt the earth rent from beneath his feet.

When he came to, seconds later, the whole world was a scream. He didn't know where it was coming from, that scream, or if it was in fact a thousand screams melded together, but it filled his whole head. He opened his eyes and saw only smoke, smoke and screams. He was dazed, and for a moment unsure if he could move at all, but then he was sitting up and his fingers felt a thin stick of wood in the grass. His wand!

Blinking, tears streaming down his face from the smoke, he forced himself to his feet. He was utterly alone, surrounded by shifting, panicked people and lifeless bodies. Where were his friends? Were they amongst the bodies? He couldn't think like that - they wouldn't be there, they couldn't.

He looked up, and caught sight of a dark figure, stood still amongst the mayhem. For a wild moment, he thought it was a Dementor, but then he remembered the strange cloaked man pointing his wand at them, and his stomach dropped. Without thinking too hard about it, he raised his wand and choked out: 'Expelliarmus!'

A wand flew towards him, he reached out for it but missed the catch in his daze and it landed on the grass a few feet away. The man looked around, seeing him, and then began to run straight at him. Scorpius stared at him, his confused mind struggling to comprehend what was going on, but then the man came close enough for Scorpius to see under the hood, see the crazed expression of hate, and then he pulled a long bowie knife out of the cloak.

'Stupefy!' The spell flew over the man's shoulder as he dodged, and Scorpius began to back away. 'Impedimenta! Stupefy!'

The man swung his arm and Scorpius jumped a second too late, feeling the knife catch in his chest with a blow that knocked him off his feet. Gasping, he felt the weight of the man slam down on top of him, felt the cold edge of the knife press against his neck as the man's hot breath filled his mouth and nostrils. His fingers were still closed tight around his wand, somehow, and as the knife bit into the soft skin of his neck he managed to turn the wand just enough to point at the man and whispered: 'Stupefy!'

The man was blown off him as if from a giant's punch, rolling facedown in the grass, unconscious. Scorpius lay in the damp grass, unable to believe that he was still alive, and then the thought of his friends entered his mind and slowly, ignoring the pain in his side and neck and spine, he rolled over and began to crawl, painstakingly, across the grass.

He saw Albus lying beside Adelaide in the grass, their hands almost touching. Adelaide, from a glance, seemed alright but that she was unconscious. The sight of Albus, however, made Scorpius choke for air as he fought off nausea. The whole left side of his friend was covered in blood, seeping through his clothes, congealing on his cheek and neck.

'Oh Merlin, Albus, Albus wake up, Albus, please!' sobbed Scorpius, fumbling blindly with his friend's clothes, desperate to find some way to help, but all he found was more blood. He reached to pull off his own shirt, but as he touched his side he found that it, too, was soaked with dark, sticky blood. He looked around, sobbing still, desperately searching for some kind of help or aid.

'Help! Somebody help my friend! Please!' he cried, but his voice just joined the multitude of others.

Vanishing the blood from his shirt, he pulled it off and pressed it against Albus' side. His own ribs were throbbing horribly, but he ignored that. As he looked up, he thought he saw figures running towards him. Thinking of more cloaked attackers, he raised his wand and pointed it dully at them, but the words couldn't form in his sluggish, exhausted mind.

'Who are you?' he cried as they drew near. 'What do you want?'

'We want to help you! We're from the Ministry,' said one of the figures, a woman from her long blonde hair.

'The … Ministry?'

He swayed, as his vision began to disintegrate, and as he collapsed it felt as if he was falling into a set of strong arms. Finally allowing himself to give in, he relaxed into the embrace, his head lolling back. Darkness began to rise up around him, but even as dreams sprang up around him he heard the words of the Ministry witch and wizard:

'Merlin's beard - this is Potter's son!'

'And this one - this one's the Malfoy boy.'

'There'll be a storm about this one, I tell you!'

—

Albus woke up suddenly, like when one has been trying to sleep and opens one's eyes to find it is morning already. He lay, utterly disorientated, trying to piece together how he'd gone from kissing and holding hands with Adelaide one moment to lying in a strange bed the next. His left side felt oddly stiff and was wrapped in some kind of material, but he gritted his teeth and leant on his right arm to force himself to sit up a few inches. His legs didn't seem to be responding very well, either.

He was clearly in a ward, although it wasn't the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, so he surmised that it must be St Mungo's. Most of the other beds had curtains drawn around them, and he didn't recognise any of the others. In the bed next to him sat Scorpius, a bandage wrapped around his neck and a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ spread out over his knees.

'Scorpius?'

His friend looked around, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. 'Gosh, you're alive. That's a surprise.'

'What happened?' asked Albus. His mouth felt very dry and husky.

'I'll explain it all in a minute,' said Scorpius, looking back down at his newspaper and turning a page. 'We've been out for five days, I only woke up an hour and a half ago. You're just in time - your parents have arrived, along with the Minister for Magic and a couple other Ministry people. They want our account of what happened.'

'But what did happen?'

'Alright, my account. You were unconscious for most of it so probably can't give a very useful statement,' said Scorpius.

'Statement? What's my aunt and the Ministry doing here?' asked Albus, feeling more and more confused by the minute. But at that moment the door to the ward swung open and he saw both his parents, his aunt, Professor Longbottom, and a couple more Ministry witches that he vaguely recognised, all file into the room.

'Albus!' exclaimed his parents, and they hurried forward to embrace him. He smiled awkwardly at them, but as he still had no idea exactly how he got to be in a St Mungo's bed, he didn't really have anything to say. Anyway, after the preliminary hellos and introductions, they all turned to Scorpius, who began to speak. One of the witches whipped out a notebook and began to write furiously, as Scorpius detailed everything that had happened after Albus lost consciousness at the festival.

He told them about spotting the dark figure, about the explosion that knocked them all unconscious, about waking up and seeing the cloaked man still stood in the field. Albus felt a chill run over him as he listened to Scorpius tell about Disarming the man, about being attacked by the man's knife and then managing the Stupefy him at the last moment. He felt sick at the thought of what would've happened if Scorpius hadn't managed to keep hold of his wand.

When he finished, there were a few seconds of silence before anyone said anything. In the end, it was Albus' aunt Hermione who spoke first: 'That is quite an account, Mr Malfoy. You have certainly acted with experience and nerve far beyond what I'd expect of someone your age.'

'I agree,' said Albus' father, 'and we can also tell you that the man you apprehended has been identified as a Mr Augustus Burke. He's been on our radar for a while for some anti-Muggle feelings that he's expressed, but he seemed to just be a quiet if eccentric man. Anyway, we've examined his wand and questioned him, and he's being charged with all attacks from the past few months. We're just trying to determine now if he acted alone or with accomplices.'

'Well done for managing to catch him, Scorpius,' said the Minister, 'It's fantastic that we've got him. I must run now, but I'll leave you with my personal regards and congratulations. Albus - all my love and best wishes for your recovery.'

She left, and the Ministry pair followed at her heels leaving Albus' parents and Longbottom behind. At that moment, a Healer in lime green robes came over. She'd clearly been picking her moment, not wanting to interrupt whatever meeting the Minister for Magic was having in her ward.

'Hello, I'm Healer Jenkins,' she said, smiling at Albus and Scorpius. 'I'll just give you both a quick rundown of your respective situations. Mr Malfoy, we've already given you a bit of an overview, haven't we?'

'Yep, stab wounds to the ribs and neck, not serious but attacker used a cursed knife so it can't be healed with any spells,' Scorpius reeled off.

'Perfect, couldn't have said it better myself. We can give you Skin-Graft Solutions and some other potions and ointments, and you should be as good as new in about a week,' said Jenkins, making a note on her clipboard.

'What about me?' asked Albus.

'Your condition is a little more complicated, Mr Potter' said Jenkins, frowning a little as she scanned her notes. 'What we've surmised is, when the attacker cast the explosion, the epicentre was very close to you. Therefore, your body has undergone intense trauma and, due to the cause being magical, it's effectively gone into shock.'

'What does that all mean?'

'Don't be worried - none of the damage should be permanent. Think of it as like when you get winded, and you can't move or breathe for a few seconds. That's what your body is feeling like. So your internal organs will be quite bruised, you'll feel tired and a little nauseous for the next few days, and your spine will also be struggling for that period, too.'

'My spine?' cried Albus, trying to sit up and finding his body didn't respond. Panic began to rise up from his belly as he attempted to kick his legs and they only twitched. 'What's wrong with me?'

'Albus, calm down,' said his father.

'As Jenkins said, you're going to be fine,' said his mother, sounding no-nonsense as ever. 'You'll have treatment here for the next two weeks, and they'll rehabilitate you back to normal again. Your body just needs to recover from the magical shock of the explosion.'

He nodded, staring down at his limp limbs under the blanket. 'Is that all?'

'There was a little skin damage from the blast, too, but that's nothing to worry about,' said Jenkins. Something in Jenkins' voice made him suspicious and he wondered whether to press her for the real truth, but he decided against it. He didn't need more depressive news. 'As for your treatment, I'd say two weeks here, and then another two weeks at home with Healers visiting. You may need a cane for a month or so after that, but that's all.'

'Like an old man,' sighed Albus, staring up at the ceiling. He'd never been particularly active, but the idea of his body not responding to his head made his skin crawl and pushed a nugget of fear deep into him.

'What about the others?' asked Scorpius. 'I only woke up an hour ago, I haven't seen anything of them.'

'Mr Fitzroy and Mr Langwith were kept in induced comas for four days, like you two, in order to help their bodies deal with the stress of the explosion. However, as there was nothing else wrong with them, They should be waking up today; as there's nothing else wrong with them, they'll be off to Hogwarts this evening.'

'And Adelaide?' asked Albus. His heart sank at the look on Jenkins' face. She wasn't dead, she couldn't be, he didn't even want to imagine what it would be like if she was dead…

'Miss Gray is being treated in _L'Institut des Guérisseurs Magique_ , in Switzerland.'

'In Switzerland?' exclaimed Scorpius and Albus in unison.

'What's she doing there?' asked Scorpius. Albus was speechless.

'Her father had her transferred two days ago,' said Albus' mother. 'We spoke to him, and her mother, and they were extremely upset by the whole situation. Adelaide's treatment is going to take longer than yours, Albus, as she was hurt worse in the blast. So they've decided she'll be treated in Switzerland as they live there, and she can finish her schooling with a tutor or at Beauxbatons.'

'She's - she's not coming back to Hogwarts?' choked Albus, his throat suddenly horribly tight. He wanted to scream as he thought of the happiness that had been so suddenly removed, like a toy given and then stamped upon, but he bit it back and forced his expression to show nothing more than sadness at the loss of a friend. He felt Scorpius' gaze upon him, more knowing than his parents, but he didn't look at him.

'No. I'm sorry, Albus,' said his mother, giving his hand a squeeze. 'We knew you were close.'

'Your body still needs to rest a little more and process some of the healing potions we've given you, so I've got a Sleeping Draught for you,' said Jenkins, handing the flask to Albus. He felt so entirely bowled over by the bad news he'd been given that he took it without protest, downing the bitter liquid in one and relaxing back on the pillows. After the last half hour, he just wanted to be unconscious again.

His mother sat beside his bed and smoothed his hair off his face as he drifted towards sleep, and the cool touch of her hand felt more comforting than he could've imagined. He wanted more than ever to be hidden in her embrace, like he had as a child, feeling as though there he was truly safe and comfortable.

He heard his father speaking in a low voice, but even though they were only a couple of feet apart the words were indistinct. Albus strained his ears to listen, but he was already falling to deeply into sleep, and before he knew it he was gone.

It was Scorpius his father was speaking to. As Albus' eyes closed, Harry turned to Scorpius with his hands clasped, elbows rested on his knees. 'Scorpius I - I can't thank you enough. You acted far beyond what I'd expect of a seventeen-year-old in your position, and on top of that you helped Albus even when you yourself were injured. You're a fine young man, and if ever you wish to join the Aurors, I'll make sure a spot is open for you.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Scorpius quietly.

'Don't thank me - and call me Harry,' said Albus' father. They shook hands, and Ginny turned around to shake his hand too, uttering her own words of thanks. Then Mr and Mrs Potter stood up and said goodbye, leaving the ward hand in hand. Scorpius watched them go, and then looked back down at the newspaper in his lap. The mugshot of Augustus Burke grinned slyly up at him, and with a shiver and an itch of pain in his ribs, he turned it over.

He had slipped into a light doze, jerking suddenly awake by a vaguely disturbing dream that he forgot immediately, and opened his eyes to find his mother sat beside his bed. Albus was still unconscious, his head lolling away from them. He realised that he hadn't seen his mother for over six months, since before she left at Christmas. She hadn't changed much at all; her hair was a few inches shorter, her robes were French rather than British style, and there was that same distinctive scent of her perfume, that flower that Scorpius couldn't place. He stared at her, unsure quite what to feel.

'Scorpius,' she murmured, reaching forward to take his hand. Without thinking, he found himself lifting up his hands on the pretext of smoothing his hair, and then clasping them in his lap away from hers. She quietly withdrew her hand, resting it in her own lap, and looking down. 'I'm sorry I haven't seen you earlier. I've been busy.'

'I'm sure you have been,' said Scorpius dully.

'I came to see you when you were ill in February.'

'Not while I was awake.'

She looked away again, staring across the ward. 'I know this is hard on you, Scorpius, but you must understand. I had to get away.'

Scorpius did wonder why he wasn't shouting and screaming at her, for leaving and abandoning him. He found that he didn't even have the energy to be angry, or sad. Those emotions were burnt out of him months ago. Now when he looked at his mother, he just felt something become cold inside him, the remnants of a kind of grief.

'I don't understand. But that's fine.'

'Please, Scorpius, darling. I've been thinking about you so much, I've missed you more than I can say. I thought it would be better if I broke cleanly, gave you and your father some space to readjust.'

'No, you wanted to escape. You wanted to leave him, and you didn't care enough about me to fight for me.'

'No!'

'Either you don't care, or you're a coward.'

He wondered if he'd made her cry. She did look down for a long time, her hands clasped so tight her knuckles became stark red and white. But when she looked up, her face was stricken yet controlled, as ever.

'I know I've done you wrong. But I want us to spend time together again.'

'Will you take me to live with you in Paris?' he asked, staring her in the eye.

'That's … that's complicated, Scorpius, my flat and my life there means…'

'You mean you don't want me to live with you. That's fine. But that means the truth is you don't really want me in your life, you just feel you should -'

'Scorpius, please!'

'- still see me, because it is taboo to abandon one's son. But to be honest, if I'm just your shiny accessory you can ram that up a Hippogriff, because -'

'Scorpius!'

'-frankly, I don't have time for either you or Father. I'm seventeen now, I will do what I want to do. And the first thing that I want is some time alone.'

'Please, I just want to see you.'

'I don't want to see you. Please leave.'

His mother stood, but turned back to him. 'I still want to be your mother, Scorpius.'

He looked up at her, keeping his face blank and cold. 'You're too late. I needed you to be my mother when I sent you those letters. But I've learnt now that I don't need you. Goodbye.'

She gasped as if he'd cursed her, and hurried from the ward. Scorpius waited until the door swung shut behind her and he was sure she'd gone, and then slid down in his bed and pulled the sheets up to his chin, making sure to keep silent as tears rolled down his cheeks and the lump in his throat threatened to choke him. After a long while, he slipped back into an uneasy sleep, where he dreamt he was back home in the manor, and he was following a lingering smell of flowers that became weaker and weaker before finally disappearing altogether.

Despite the monotony of the days, the end of Scorpius' week in hospital rolled around surprisingly fast, and suddenly he was packed and fully dressed again, waiting for Healer Jenkins to give him the all clear. Albus watched him morosely from his bed - he still had another week of rehabilitation treatment to get through.

'I'll be with you in a moment!' Jenkins called as she bustled past, half a dozen clipboards and some vials of potion balancing precariously in the air in front of her. She paused for a second to thrust an envelope into Scorpius' hands from her pocket, nearly losing several clipboards as she did. 'That arrived for you this morning, you can read it while you wait.'

'Who's it from?' asked Albus, as Scorpius sat down on the edge of the bed and tore open the letter.

Scorpius didn't reply immediately. He recognised the neat, slanting handwriting instantly, but he didn't want to have to explain to Albus why Rose Weasley was writing him letters. 'Just … just a girl …' he said evasively.

 _Dear Scorpius,_

 _I'm sorry i haven't written before, or come to visit. I'm sure you understand, but believe me I've wanted to come see you. I know that we left things in an odd place at Easter, and we haven't really spoken since when we should've; it doesn't really matter whose fault it is, but let's say its mine._

 _I guess I've been trying to ignore how I feel about you, and it's become more and more difficult to do so. When I heard what happened to you at Inverfest I was beside myself, and I can't really ignore things anymore._

 _What I'm trying to say is, as much as you drive me mad, I think I like you in some way that's maybe more than the normal amount to like a cousin's best friend. I've heard you're not coming back to Hogwarts before the end of term, but can we talk soon? I at least feel I should make amends for how I've been acting in the past few months._

 _Get better soon,_

 _Yours,_

 _Rose_

'Mr Malfoy?' Healer Jenkins had reappeared, this time with only the single clipboard and her wand. Scorpius hurriedly stuffed Rose's letter into his pocket and stood up. Jenkins' check lasted all of ninety seconds, and then she made a few notes on her clipboard and smiled widely at him. 'Congratulations, Scorpius, you're good to go. Is anyone here to get you?'

'No, but I'll be fine,' said Scorpius with a grin. 'I've passed my Apparition test, anyway.'

'You're not Apparating with that chest! You can go down to the front desk and get a Portkey - take your discharge sheet. I'll see you for your checkup in a fortnight.'

And with a brief goodbye and a promise to meet again soon, Scorpius was gone. Albus watched him go, and then stared back up at the ceiling, slipping back into the deadened depression that had plagued him since he'd regained consciousness. Adelaide was gone. The sentence had been beating in his mind like a twisted mantra, repeating over and over again until he thought he'd go mad. He'd written her two letters, but received no reply. Was she awake yet? Would her parents reply if not? The idea of writing to her, and getting a possible response, was the only thing that could motivate him to any real activity.

He had rehabilitation twice a day, and he hated it. The Healers cast all sorts of charms on him, and he had to do exercises that were frankly no more advanced than what Muggles probably did. Forcing himself up and down the room, his body sagging onto the crutches as his legs refused to move properly, dragging on the floor. He'd never been an active person, but this lack of locomotion humiliated him. His hands and shoulders hurt, his legs ached constantly, and he wondered if he'd ever walk properly again.

Finally, after a fortnight, he was released from hospital. He could walk on a cane now, albeit slowly and painfully, but his parents arrived buzzing with energy and excitement. He tried to not look too grumpy, forcing a smile as they helped gather his things and chatted to Healer Jenkins.

'I'll see you back here in two weeks, Potter,' said Jenkins, signing his discharge sheet and handing it to his mother. 'Good luck! Make sure to do your exercises, now.'

The end of term at Hogwarts wasn't for another week, and the house in Ottery St Catchpole felt oddly quiet without Lily and James there. His room was just as he'd left it, only his school trunk lay at the end of his bed, his schoolbag lying neatly on top of it. Albus stood in his doorway, and for the first time since the attack he wondered if he was going to cry. He looked down, swallowing painfully, and then his father spoke from behind him:

'Are you alright, Al?'

'Yeah,' croaked Albus, 'I'm just going to have a rest, I think.'

'Of course.'

His parents retreated, and he went slowly over to sit down on his bed. His whole body seemed to be hurting, stabs of pain travelling up his right side with each movement. The dull ache that had sat on the left-hand side of his chest for the past fortnight seemed to be growing stronger, so now it seemed to be throbbing. Ignoring the pain for a moment, he reached down into his bag from the hospital, and after fumbling about in the inside pocket he pulled out four letters, held together by string.

"Adelaide Gray" was written across the front of each in cramped, angular handwriting, and over it the word "Returned" had been stamped in red ink so bright it seemed to glow. On the top letter, the most recent, a much neater hand had written below the stamp: 'Mr Potter, my daughter is undergoing intense medical treatment and will not be able to write to you for a very long time. Please stop attempting to communicate. I wish you the best of health, Alfred Gray'.

Blinking back tears, Albus limped to his desk and shoved the letters to the back of a drawer, slamming it shut again. Then he went back to the bed, lay down, and attempted to sleep.

Two days later, Albus found his dream disturbed by a strange tapping noise. He was hovering on a broom, hundreds of metres above the ground, circling higher and higher, when suddenly there was a loud tapping somewhere near him. He looked around, trying to turn the broom to see what it was, and as he did he slipped, and with a silent scream of horror found himself falling through the air, arms and legs flailing helplessly…

He opened his eyes, jumping in anticipation of hitting the ground, and then realised he was in bed. But the tapping was still there - someone, or something, was knocking on his window. Glancing at his alarm clock, he saw it was three minutes past four in the morning.

'What in Merlin's…' he muttered, forcing himself upright and sliding awkwardly down his bed to the window. As he pulled his curtain open, he was nearly struck on the nose as a small airborne object flew through the open casement and into his room, hovering in the air in front of him. He glanced outside - it was still fairly dark outside, the dawn just a greyish-yellow strip over the purple horizon - and then squinted at the object.

After a few seconds, he realised it was a tightly rolled scroll that had been attached to a pebble. Still in the fog of sleep, he reached out and picked it up, pulling the scroll away and unrolling it. The pebble fell to the ground, spell broken, as Albus read the few lines of narrow writing:

 _I'm outside and need to talk to you. Come at once, please don't wake anyone. S._

He looked out the window again, wondering if this was some trick, but as he did he thought he caught sight of a familiar silver-blond head. With a sigh, he began to dress.

A few minutes later, he was limping down his front garden, cane clutched in his right hand. Scorpius was stood just on the other side of the fence, staring away across the surrounding countryside, but he looked around as Albus approached. As their eyes met, something in Scorpius' expression made Albus' stomach lurch. He was hurting, far more than when they'd been in the hospital together. It was something close to a few months back, when Scorpius had come back from his suspension so cold and unreachable.

'What's happened?' he asked, reaching the front gate and leaning upon it.

Scorpius didn't reply for a moment. 'Albus, I haven't been fully truthful with you. It's … it's my father. Something's gone wrong with him, I think it was when my mother left. There was always this other side to him, a darker one, but he kept it hidden when she was around. But now she's gone, and it's like he's a different person, he's mean, and violent…'

'Has he hit you?' asked Albus. Scorpius nodded. 'Did he hit you when you were suspended?'

Scorpius nodded again. 'I'm sorry that I was so distant when I came back, but I didn't know how to tell you and I didn't want to lie to you either. In the end, he wrote me a letter saying that he'd acted out of character, and that he'd never do it again. Only, when I came back from St Mungo's and he came home from some business trip to Sri Lanka, he started getting angry again, and then yesterday he … well, I don't need to describe it.'

'I'm sorry, Scorpius.'

'So am I. I've left, anyway. I'm seventeen now, and I can emancipate myself from him without too much trouble. I hadn't meant to access my trust fund for another year - didn't need to, did I? But I'll just fill in some paperwork and get it in a few weeks.'

'What'll you do until then? You can stay with me, my parents won't mind at all, you don't even have to tell them why,' said Albus.

'Thanks, but I wouldn't encroach on you all like that. I think I'll go away for the summer, to Europe or further if I get bored. I know some people, my aunt lives near St Tropez, and there's always the Zabinis in Italy. But I thought I'd come and explain it all to you, as you're the only person I think I can really tell this to. I'm sorry to leave you alone for the summer.'

'Bugger that, I'm coming with you,' said Albus.

'What?'

'Screw sitting about in the house for weeks on end, feeling sad and lonely. I'm coming too - wait here, I'm getting my stuff.'

It took Albus twenty minutes to get upstairs again and pack his things. He could've done it faster, but his leg was still playing up and he was being careful to not wake anyone else in the house. At one point, he thought he heard a floorboard creak in his parents' room, but he froze for a few seconds and the house returned to silence again. Letting out a sigh, he went to desk and found a clean piece of parchment, scrawling a few lines to his parents to explain what had happened and where he was going. Signing it off with a sorry, he left it on his bed and made his slow, awkward way out of the house again, bag in one hand and cane in the other.

Scorpius was waiting in the same spot where Albus had found him, again looking across the surrounding countryside. The sun was almost visible at the horizon, now, turning the sky a pale violet-grey, and as the two boys set off down the lane it emerged above the dark hills, filling the valley suddenly with light and turning the dew on each leaf and blade of grass into thousands of glittering liquid crystals. They walked for a few minutes, until the village was out of sight, then they glanced at each other, turned on the spot and, a second apart, vanished into thin air.


End file.
